


A Troublesome Transition

by Arionrhod, McKay



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 08:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 62,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11009907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/pseuds/Arionrhod, https://archiveofourown.org/users/McKay/pseuds/McKay
Summary: For Severus Snape, death proves not to be the end, but rather a new beginning as he takes on the office of Death, adjusting to his new position with the help of some familiar faces and a ghostly assistant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2009. Pre-slash. Inspired by Piers Anthony's Incarnations of Immortality series. This story is a canon-compliant Afterlife story.

_Life is pleasant. Death is peaceful. It's the transition that's troublesome.  
\-- Jimi Hendrix_

_Dying_ , Severus Snape thought to himself as he lay on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, his life slowly ebbing from his body, _isn't really so bad_.

Not that he was anxious to die, not really, but after everything he'd been through during his life, there was a certain peace found in knowing it was almost over, that he would no longer suffer the indignities to which he'd been subjected over the last almost-forty years. Voldemort had done the deed and left him, and then Potter had come in, as Severus had been certain the brat would, and Severus had enacted the plan he'd held in reserve for months, giving him a set of carefully selected memories designed both to rattle Potter and to make certain the meddling Gryffindor didn't go digging into Severus' private affairs. He was certain that Voldemort was going to be destroyed, since even if Potter bungled things, the Dark Lord could no doubt be counted on to let his arrogance be his own undoing. Either way, Voldemort would be gone, and Severus was finally free; free from the mistakes of his past, free from the control of two different masters who'd both demanded his allegiance; free from the idiocy of students and the prejudices of the Order. Best of all, perhaps, he was free from Potter and the Weasleys and Lupin and the whole pack of annoying, maddening Gryffindors forever. Just the thought of that was enough to make it worth dying to escape.

It didn't even hurt any longer. His body felt distant, disconnected and unreal, as though he were already moving beyond it. He could still hear and see, although there wasn't much to look at from his position on the floor, and he doubted he could summon the strength to move even if he wanted to, but he didn't. No, he was quite content to lie there, watching the creep of the moonlight across the floorboards and thinking about how it would soon be over. Oblivion would be upon him, and he'd no longer care about any of the horrible things he'd suffered in life.

A noise reached him, startling him. It sounded almost like a footstep, a sound that was definitely out of place here. Everyone was off at the battle, fighting for their own lives; no one should be checking on him until it was all over, at which time he'd no doubt get some sort of vindication for what he'd had to do in the name of Albus Dumbledore's cause. He frowned, trying to focus his straying thoughts, and that was when he saw the hem of dark robes in his line of sight. It was difficult, but he managed to make his eyes track and focus, wanting to know who had dared intrude on his final moments, disturbing his slow slide into darkness. If it was one of the damned Gryffindors, he just might have to manage to snark at them, just for form's sake.

But as his gaze rose along the thin, black-robed body, Severus had a terrible sense of foreboding. The robes looked familiar, and when he managed to focus on the intruder's face, he saw only a plain, white skull-like mask looking back at him. A Death Eater. He didn't know which one, but it didn't matter. A surge of fury overcame him, to know that he was probably going to be forced to suffer even more at the hands of one of Voldemort's minions. As the figure bent down, reaching out a hand toward him, Severus reacted on pure instinct. He didn't know where the strength came from, and he didn't care; all that mattered was destroying this vermin. If it meant he took one of Voldemort's honor guards with him to Hell, so much the better.

He didn't know how his wand made it into his hand, but he didn't question it. Pointing it toward the figure, he spoke what he was certain would be the last two words he would ever say.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

Light flared from his wand, impacting the man in the chest, and the intruder fell back bonelessly, his head impacting the floor with a sickening crack. Satisfied, Severus dropped the wand and closed his eyes.

Death might not be proud, but no one had ever said it couldn't be vindictive.


	2. Chapter 2

There was pain on the side of his face, and someone calling his name. Severus opened his eyes, confused by the fact that he was feeling anything at all. Then confusion gave way to annoyance as he saw that the person who had struck him and brought him back was Minerva McGonagall.

"If you're dead, too, that can only mean I've gone to Heaven, and that's unacceptable," Severus muttered. "I'll not spend the rest of eternity surrounded by winged Gryffindors!"

"Pfft!" Minerva regarded him with a blend of amusement and impatience. "I am not dead, and you most certainly are not in heaven," she replied tartly, reaching for his arm to help him sit up. "You are still on the earthly plane, and you have a job to do."

Too stunned to protest, Severus was upright before he even realized it didn't hurt. He could feel his body, and he wasn't in any pain; in fact, he felt as well as he could ever remember feeling, which didn't make any sense. Scowling at Minerva, Severus yanked his arm out of her grasp. "I don't know what you did to save me, and I'm not even certain I want to thank you for it," he replied. "I was quite ready to go. But I _do_ know that I've done my job! I did everything Albus wanted me to do, and I'm _finished_. It's in Potter's hands now, and the damned boy can bloody well get on with it. If I'm not dead, then I'm retired, as of this moment. I'll not go from taking Albus' orders to taking Potter's!"

"I didn't save you." Minerva rose to her feet and braced her fists on her hips, gazing down at him with the same stern expression she turned on recalcitrant students. "And you are not retired, although I can promise you will not answer to young Harry. No, your job is quite different now." She gestured to the body of the Death Eater on the floor. "You killed Death, and you must take his place."

If Minerva weren't dead, she was obviously out of her mind. Severus flowed to his feet and glared at her, not appreciating being treated like a First Year throwing a temper tantrum. "You're out of your mind! Did you take a blow to the head? I'm not about to go back out there, and especially not on the Dark Lord's side! Whoever that was will just have to stay dead until this mess is over; there is no way I'm going to impersonate one of my former 'colleagues'. The Dark Lord almost killed me once, and I've no desire to give him a second chance!"

"Foolish man!" Minerva tutted impatiently at him and shook her head. "Aren't you listening? You didn't kill a Death Eater. You killed _Death_ , an Incarnation of the eternal office. Since you are responsible for his removal from office, you must now take his place. Those are the rules."

Severus could only stare at her in disbelief. Obviously Minerva had gone completely mad, no doubt the result of a spell she'd been hit with during the battle. "You should get Pomfrey to have a look at you," he said, reaching out a hand to summon his wand. "As for me, I'm going to collect a few things from my quarters and then take a long overdue holiday. Preferably somewhere that has never heard of the Wizarding world."

She shot him another annoyed look, but she didn't speak; instead, she drew her wand, and with a quick flick of her wrist, she flipped the body over, and another flick pushed back the man's hood, revealing Severus' own face on the corpse. Severus recoiled, staring down at the pale, slack features that were all too familiar to him.

"What trickery is this?" he snapped, whirling and pointing a finger at Minerva. "You did this! What are you after? Is this retaliation for Albus' death? I killed him on _his_ orders! If you're trying to exact some revenge on me by making me think I've gone mad, it won't work!"

Minerva's expression softened then, and she shook her head. "This has nothing to do with revenge," she said. "Albus did what he had to do, as have I, and as have you. The body of Death has assumed your features so that when it is found, everyone will assume it is you, and you will be free to assume the office without any suspicious disappearances for people to wonder about. If you still don't believe me, take his robes, put them on, and conjure a mirror yourself. What you see there will be further proof that I am not attempting to trick you."

Severus continued to frown, trying to make some sense out of a what had rapidly become a senseless situation. One moment, he'd been slipping quietly away, and the next, he'd had to kill someone lest they visit some further indignity upon him. Then Minerva showed up, talking complete nonsense, and showing him a body that wore his own face, which was all but impossible. A metamorphmagus would have reverted to their natural form at death, and unless whoever this was had a death wish of their own, they'd not have used Polyjuice to pretend to be Severus. There were too many people who were anxious to kill Severus on sight.

He wanted to refuse, but something in Minerva's expression stopped him. Minerva had often been angry with him over the years, and she'd not hesitated to give him the edge of her sharp tongue, but as far as he knew, she had never lied to him. Being a Legilimens gave him a sense about when he was being told an untruth, and he didn't feel that now. He stared at her for several long moments, trying to see if she would crack under his regard, but she remained stoic, looking back at him directly, not dropping her gaze.

"Fine!" he bit out, annoyed with himself for giving in to Minerva's wishes. But the sooner they got through with whatever nonsense was in her head, the sooner he could leave. He didn't trust himself to Apparate himself without splinching, nor did he want to raise his wand against Minerva; she'd never done him any harm, and to her credit, she had acknowledged the things Severus had gone through, absolving him of Albus' death, the first person to do so. For that, he could put on the robes of a dead man for a few moments.

Striding over to the body, Severus stripped away the robes with a quick spell, having no desire to touch the man he'd had to kill. He lifted the robes over his head and dropped them into place over his own, surprised to find that they seemed to flow into place and meld to the robes he already wore, the hood settling over his head, light as a feather. Magical fabric, no doubt, and hardly something most wizards wore to what might be their death. 

"Very flattering, I'm sure. Perhaps now I'll get a spread in Playwitch," he snorted, using his wand to conjure a small hand-mirror. He glanced into the mirror, then froze, his eyes widening in shock as a tiny thrill of superstitious fear flowed coldly down his spine. Staring back at him from where his face should be was nothing but a skull. Not a skull mask, but bare bones and hollow eye sockets, yellow-tinged teeth gleaming in the moonlight.

"You see?" Minerva's tone was gentle, almost kind. "The robes have the ability to protect and disguise you. Your predecessor got careless; otherwise, the Killing Curse wouldn't have killed him. Likely, he didn't have the robes closed tightly enough, or the spell would have bounced off. As long as you wear the robes, gloves, and boots, you are invulnerable. Take them off, and you are as mortal as any other human."

"But... this is madness!" Severus replied, his mind whirling with questions even as he wanted to reject the possibility that what she had said was true. "Death isn't a person! It's a thing, not a job someone performs, like taking out the rubbish or brewing a potion! If it was, we'd know about it!" He looked at Minerva, his eyes narrowed. "How do _you_ know about it? Or are you simply drawing me into your delusion? What did you do to me while I was dead?"

Minerva drew herself up straight and proud and fixed him with an icy gaze, tipping her chin up. "I did nothing to you, Severus Snape," she said in a tone that brooked no argument, and Severus could imagine that if she'd been in her cat form, her back would have been arched and her fur bristling. "Nor am I deluded. I know Death because he was a former colleague. I too hold an office among the Incarnations. I am Fate."

Severus lifted a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, and he was surprised when he could actually _feel_ his nose, despite the skull he'd seen in the mirror. He lifted the mirror again, staring at the white bones and bare teeth. "Illusion. It's an illusion, isn't it?" he murmured, then forced his attention back to what Minerva had claimed. "Fate? As in the Greek fates, determining the course of men's lives? That's appropriate, you meddling old woman. I'm half inclined to believe you!"

"You had better be more than half-inclined, you stupid, stubborn man," she retorted sharply as she rounded on him, wagging her finger. "There are souls waiting to be collected, and that's _your_ job now. As for my job..." She drew a spindle out of her pocket and held it up. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order?"

"Oh, by all means," Severus replied. This day had been the most surreal of his entire life - which was saying quite a lot - so it might as well become even odder. If he believed Minerva, he had killed Death, and now he was supposed to go about collecting souls for the afterlife, something his students had probably already suspected him of doing, given the way they'd hated him. If all this nonsense were really true, it would probably be one of the biggest ironies in the universe. A Death Eater, seeking to cheat Death, actually _being_ Death. No doubt if the Dark Lord had known about such things, he'd have sought out the "position" for himself.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he lifted a brow that Minerva no doubt couldn't see. "Demonstrate away."

"Very well." She nodded briskly as she unwound a length of thread from the spindle. "Collect the accessories from your predecessor. There should be a watch and a translator, among other things. Put them on, and then we will visit your first client. We won't have far to go."

"Fine." Severus grumbled, but he had to admit to a bit of curiosity about what she thought she could do to make him believe he was really Death and she was Fate and that this wasn't one big cosmic joke or near-death delusion. He moved to the body again, avoiding looking at the face, and gathered up the things she'd mentioned: gloves, shoes, and a watch that looked like some wonder of Muggle technology. When he happened to glance at the body's head, he noticed a large, cabachon earring the man wore, and for some reason, he felt compelled to take that as well, although he slipped it into a pocket of the robes since he didn't have a pierced ear.

"I think that's it," he said. "Lead on, Macduff."

Minerva pivoted on her heel and marched out of the Shrieking Shack at a brisk pace. "It's only a short walk back to Hogwarts. I see no need to summon Mortis, assuming you're up to it?" she asked, a challenging note in her voice.

"What, you think a little thing like dying could keep me down?" Severus asked, snorting disdainfully as he followed along in her wake, his longer legs making it easy for him to keep up. He didn't ask who or what Mortis was, certain that Minerva would no doubt explain in time. "I'm younger than you are, remember?"

"You have no idea," Minerva replied dryly. "At any rate, your job and mine overlap somewhat. You collect souls, and I cut lifelines. You don't collect _every_ soul, mind you, only the ones in balance. Most people can find their way to their eternal fate on their own, but some are too close to call. That is where you come in. As for me, I cannot tell you whose soul you will collect first; I only know that someone's lifeline is about to run out. You'll need to use your tools to find your client."

"Straight out of mythology," Severus muttered. "I suppose you have a big set of shears you use to nip things? What about _my_ lifeline?" He stopped, holding up a hand. "Wait... don't answer that. I don't think I want to know." Shaking his head, he held up the watch. "I assume the robes and the shoes aren't any good for locating my... client, as you termed him. That leaves this, and it's a Muggle device, so I've no idea what to do with it."

She stopped and fixed him with a quelling look. "It is not a Muggle device," she said with an air of strained patience. "For such a bright man, you are being remarkably dense. _Look_ at the watch. You'll find it works as a countdown device, among other things."

"Next time you've been mostly dead for hours, I'll remember to berate your intelligence," Severus replied, annoyed with himself for not assimilating more quickly, but he wasn't used to feeling out of his depth as he did at the moment. He looked down at the watch, surprised to see that the display had altered from what it had shown when he'd removed it from the wrist of the man in the Shack. At that point, it had shown only a numeric representation of the time, the same as any of the watches he'd seen the Muggleborn students wear. But now it had a bulls-eye on it, with two dots, one of which was moving, the other being stationary at the center. It didn't take even a bright man to figure out that he must be the moving dot, and his target was the stationary one - and they were passing to the east of where the target seemed to be. Sophisticated magic, but nothing Severus couldn't have done if it had occurred to him to make such a thing. He altered course to the proper direction. "This way... assuming you're up to it."

She snorted and adjusted her pace to keep up with him easily. "I am fine," she retorted. "Just keep going and find your first client." She paused and then added, "I prefer the term. It sounds nicer than 'victim', although you are free to call them whatever you like."

"As long as I don't have to call them 'students', I don't much care," Severus replied. He glanced over toward the castle, hearing shouts and screams, but he resolutely turned his attention away. Those people weren't his problem any longer. None of them cared for or about him, and the feeling was mutual. He wasn't certain yet that he bought this whole 'I am become Death' business, but if there was one thing he knew he was _not_ , it was Severus Snape, professor, or Headmaster, or Death Eater. That was some small bit of comfort.

"Those days are over," Minerva said, tapping the spindle against her palm as she walked by his side. "You will never teach again." Her expression grew more somber as they approached the school, and her eyes grew sad. "Your first client will be someone you know," she said softly. "Someone we know. I wish it were not so, but in the middle of a battle, I suppose it is inevitable."

"From your expression, I assume it's not Lucius Malfoy, unfortunately," Severus replied dryly, then shrugged. "It's not you, and after Albus' death, I can't say there is anyone else in the Order I care about, so it doesn't really matter to me. Everyone dies; I didn't notice anyone shedding any tears over _my_ fate.""

"Only Harry and I know of your fate at this point," Minerva pointed out. "No one else has had time to realize you are missing yet, but you will be honored as a hero." She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "It might not be someone from the Order, you know. It might be one of your students."

Severus frowned, thinking of his Slytherins, the young people he'd tried hard to save from the fate he himself had suffered; he'd even sacrificed himself for Draco at Albus' and Narcissa's insistence. But he'd done his best for all of them, even knowing that his efforts were likely doomed to failure, so he'd resigned himself to losing some of them long ago. "That would be unfortunate, especially if it were Draco, but it's out of my control," he replied slowly. "I did my best for them - for all of them, even your bloody Gryffindors. But I can't control fate, right? That's _your_ job!"

"Now you're beginning to understand." Minerva nodded approvingly. "Well, we shall find out when we get there - and we are getting close."

Glancing at the watch again, Severus nodded. "Yes, we are," he said. The area appeared deserted, but the bulls-eye indicated they were nearly at the right place. He was watching the display, a bit ahead of Minerva, and that was why he almost tripped over the body sprawled in the tall grass. 

Stepping back, Severus looked down, surprised to see Nymphadora Tonks, collapsed in a heap on the ground like a boneless doll. He had never really cared for the clumsy young Auror, but somehow he would have thought she would have been certain to go to heaven. He almost turned to say something to Minerva, but then he looked at the watch again, noting that his dot was still a short distance from the one at the center of the bulls-eye. Not her, then. But now he could guess who. Who else would Tonks have left her infant child to follow into the jaws of death?

Skirting around Tonks' body, Severus moved a few meters beyond, and he was far less surprised this time when he stared down at the body of Remus Lupin, lying on his back, eyes closed and seeming younger, somehow, with the lines of care smoothed away from his slack features. It had to be him, of course. Hadn't Tonks spent the last two years chasing the man, never realizing that, ironically, she might as well have wished for the moon? She'd chased him to the end and still hadn't caught him, not if what he'd heard about Lupin spending most of his marriage avoiding his wife was true. 

Staring down at the body of his one-time nemesis, Severus wondered why he felt... nothing. Nothing at all, really. Not satisfaction, not pity, not sadness, just an odd sense of finality, as though a chapter had ended. Lupin had been the last of the four who had made Severus' school years a nightmare, and Severus had often thought him an ineffectual coward, so why didn't he feel a sense of victory or some amount of triumph that he'd outlasted his foes?

"Over here," he said to Minerva. He wasn't upset, but he had no doubt she would be, and he felt sympathy for her for that. He glanced up. "If you're really sure you want to know."

When Minerva reached his side, she had the spindle in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other, and she gazed down at Remus with sadness mingled with regret. "Poor boy," she murmured. "Life was unkind to too many of your generation." She snapped her head up and looked at him fixedly, her scissors poised. "End it, Severus. Take his soul and put it in your bag. You can sort it later, but life and death are in stasis until you take your first soul and officially assume the office of Death, and you don't want to get too far behind on your first day."

"Take it? How do I take it?" Severus asked, frustrated that she seemed to assume he knew what he was doing. He didn't like feeling like a student suddenly presented with a spell far beyond his experience and ability. "Is there a spell or something?"

"No, you simply reach into his body and pull it out," she explained patiently. "Be careful. Don't yank it out or mangle it, or you'll make things worse for your client." With a loud "snick!" of her scissors, she cut the thread, and at their feet, Remus' body jerked sharply, shuddered, and went still again. "Go on, then. He's ready."

Severus went very still. He'd not really believed until that moment that any of this was real, but seeing Lupin react to Minerva cutting the thread brought it home to him. Minerva had just somehow cut the thread of Lupin's life, and his soul, in whatever form it might be, was now free. He could _feel_ it in a way that was disconcerting, as though some part of him really did know what it was doing. 

He moved, almost without meaning to, bending down and reaching toward Lupin's chest. But he didn't touch it; instead his hand passed _through_ it, and he felt a cool softness twining about his hand. Drawing it back with a gasp, he saw a pale, silvery substance clinging to his fingers. "This... it's his soul?" he asked, feeling an odd mixture of power and humility in being able to pull forth Lupin's soul; he knew how fragile life was, had seen it destroyed over and over again, but this showed just how tenuous and insubstantial the soul was as well, like an unformed ghost that could be blown away in a strong wind.

"Yes, you are holding his soul," Minerva affirmed, tucking away her spindle and scissors now that their job was finished. "Check the pockets of your robes. There should be a bag. You may store the souls you collect in it until you have time to sort them. You'll have tool for that task as well."

At their feet, Lupin's skin was taking on the pallor of death, and no doubt a touch - if that was possible any longer - would show his body was growing cool. There was no doubt that Lupin was dead, and they had been the means of his passing, if not the actual cause.

Severus reached into his robes, and just as Minerva said, his fingers closed around fabric. He drew out a black bag, and, frowning in concentration, he opened it with one hand and held his other hand over it. Lupin's soul didn't seem inclined to fall into the bag, so he shook his hand slightly to dislodge it. Finally it floated free and drifted into the bag, and Severus sighed with relief as he closed the bag, holding it in his hand and staring at it with wonder. "That's all I have to do?" he asked, wondering why anyone was needed for what seemed so simple a thing. "You mentioned sorting, but... well, I don't understand why Lupin didn't simply go where he should have gone. All Gryffindors go to heaven, don't they? Or at least they certainly act as though they should."

Minerva fixed him with another quelling look. "How one acts is not an indication of their final destination. The process is far more complex than that. As I mentioned earlier, most people make it to heaven or hell on their own, but some souls are too close to an even balance between good and evil. Those are the ones Death collects personally. You have tools that will help you sort the percentage of good and evil in each soul and determine whether it should be sent to Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory." She turned her gaze downward to Lupin, her expression sympathetic. "I suspect in his case, the taint of his curse is what put his soul in balance, perhaps along with some of the unfortunate decisions he made - or didn't make - along the way. He was basically a good man, but he was touched by dark magic."

"Darkness touches everyone, in one way or another," Severus replied with a shrug. He glanced around. "So, what do I do now? You said I wouldn't go back to teaching, which is a relief, but you realize that if I'm 'dead' to the rest of the world, I still have to survive." His eyes narrowed. "Speaking of which, how in the world is it that _you_ are teaching? If you're Fate, shouldn't you be off doing your job instead of hanging around Hogwarts?"

"I _am_ doing my job," she retorted. "Fate is part of the mortal world in ways Death is not. You are no longer part of this world, and most people will not even be able to see you. Your job is to collect and sort souls; you needn't worry about holding any other job. Death has a residence in Purgatory, and you have no more need for mortal money. Forget your old life, Severus, and put everything behind you. You're about to start anew."

Severus had a million questions, but he held his tongue; there were too many, and he suspected if he started asking, he might quickly run mad. Only a short time ago, he'd faced death, content to let it come, and then he'd killed Death, the entity, and had to assume that role himself. It was insane, and yet it also made some awful sort of sense. No doubt Albus would have been amused by the whole thing, and Severus wondered idly if he'd known about Minerva. But it didn't matter, not really. 

"I didn't ask for this," he murmured. Looking at Minerva, he shook his head. "I was ready to die. I was almost glad to go, even knowing that I'd probably end up someplace horrible. Why me? Of all the people in the world, why me?"

"I had nothing to do with it," Minerva protested. "Fate oversees the larger issues, but you still have free will. You chose to fire the Killing Curse at someone you perceived as a threat. As it happened, Death wasn't prepared for resistance, and he paid dearly for it. Fortunately, he had been in office long enough to end the balanced state of his soul; no doubt he's comfortably settled in heaven even as we speak." She rounded on him with her hands on her hips, her expression stern. "You may not have asked for this, Severus Snape, but you've been given an opportunity, one that will benefit you. Your own soul is in a questionable state. Why else do you think Death came for you personally? He had come to collect and sort you just as you collected and will sort poor Remus. Where you would have gone remains unknown, but you have a chance to tip the balance of your soul toward Heaven rather than Purgatory - or worse, Hell. You have a chance to determine what your eternal fate will be."

"I had resigned myself to Hell," Severus replied with a shrug, but she had given him some things to think about. Severus had never given much thought to the state of his soul, since he'd been too busy reacting to circumstance to dwell on it overly much. Still, hadn't he _tried_ to do the right thing, by changing sides when he'd realized just how wrong and evil Voldemort truly was? Hadn't he protected Potter all these years, despite loathing the boy? Perhaps that was why he was in balance; in the long run, he'd neither been good enough or wicked enough to tip the scales either way, and for some reason, that annoyed him. "But I can change that? How long do I have to do this, then? Until I am destroyed for being careless?"

"How long you retain the office is up to you," Minerva replied, peering at him over the top of her glasses. "If you aren't careless, you could hold the office for a long time indeed. You also have the option to resign whenever you wish. Your soul stones will work on _you_ , after all, and you may keep track of the state of your own soul. If you want to step down once your soul is good enough for Heaven by a comfortable margin, then you may do so. You have the power to choose how long you will serve, and as long as you keep yourself thoroughly shielded with your robes, gloves, and boots, what happened to your predecessor will not happen to you."

Severus nodded in acknowledgment. He did, indeed have a lot to think about, and he wanted a bit of time alone to process everything, as well as a chance to see what else might be waiting for him. "You said I have a house in Purgatory... I think I'd like to go there now. I need a short time to get used to..." He made an gesture toward himself, then toward Minerva. "All of this."

"Very well." She inclined her head slightly. "But you mustn't take too long to adjust. You are Death, and you have a job to do. People won't obligingly stop dying because you need a time-out," she added with a touch of acerbity in her voice. "Mortis will take you home when you're ready to go."

"I'll try not to inconvenience them too much while I'm trying to acclimatize to being a real-life Halloween haunt," Severus replied dryly. "And you mentioned Mortis before, so I'll ask: who the devil is he?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself?" Minerva gave him a challenging look, one that made it clear she expected him to work some things out for himself. "Simply call for Mortis, and then you will have your answer."

"Oh all right!" Severus replied in his most put upon tone. He stepped away from Lupin's body, lest Mortis, whomever or whatever he was, decided to materialize right in front of him. "Mortis!"

For a moment, nothing happened, but then Severus heard the sound of huge wings beating the air, as though a dragon were approaching. He glanced up and drew in a breath as a white, spectral shape crossed his line of vision at an unbelievable speed, then circled and came back toward them, landing gracefully on the ground not far from them. Not a dragon, no, but a thestral; a massive _white_ thestral, something Severus had never seen before. The creature approached, stopping in front of Severus and bowing its long, dragon-like head.

"So you're Mortis?" Severus murmured, reaching out to stroke it upon the nose. "How appropriate."

"That is but one of Mortis' forms," Minerva informed him as she moved closer to stroke the thestral's neck. "You'll learn about the others as you go along, I'm sure."

"Other forms?" Severus blinked in surprise. The thestral snorted in agreement, and before Severus could say anything else, the huge pale horse was gone, and in its place was a large magic carpet, the white background overlaid with a large scythe done in black. Severus drew in a breath; he'd seen a lot of magic in his time, but he had to admit that _this_ was something beyond even his vast experience.

He glanced over at Minerva. "Do you live in Purgatory, too? If so, it seems I'm in a position to offer you a ride home."

"No, dear boy, I must stay," Minerva replied, shaking her head. "The battle still rages, and my work here is not yet finished. I must rejoin the others and continue in both roles, but I've no doubt we shall meet again soon." 

With that, she drew her wand and hurried away, headed back toward the castle where the fighting was at its thickest.

"Well, that leaves us, I suppose," Severus murmured, then snorted at himself. He didn't know if Mortis was sentient or just a magical artifact, but he had a feeling he'd find out. Stepping up onto the carpet, which was very plush and comfortable, Severus sighed. "Very well, then, since you seem to understand me, I'm supposed to go to Purgatory...."

Before Severus could finish the sentence, the carpet began to move, accelerating quickly but very smoothly upward. Then it went faster, the castle and Hogsmeade flashing out of sight almost in the blink of an eye. Then even Scotland was disappearing behind them, and Severus closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what he'd gotten himself into. He didn't know where Purgatory was, but he was willing to bet it wasn't actually anywhere on Earth. He just hoped that however Mortis intended to reach their destination, that he was in one piece when they arrived.


	3. Chapter 3

Purgatory, much to Severus' surprise, wasn't too bad, or at least what he could see of it when Mortis landed in front of a large mansion. He dismounted, then hesitated before offering a murmured "thank you". He didn't know why he thought it necessary to be uncharacteristically polite, except that, perhaps, it was better to be safe than sorry. Since he had no idea what he was doing, it was best not to give too much offense, especially to whom or whatever Mortis was, although he'd probably kick himself later for expressing gratitude to a glorified magic item. But his years of being a spy, of blending in no matter what the situation, meant that his instincts urged him to wariness when he didn't know what - or who - he might be facing next.

The mansion was an impressive stone building, smaller than Hogwarts but perhaps only just. He wondered if others lived there as well, but as he mounted the steps and saw the door knocker in the shape of a grinning skull, he rather thought this was Death's solo abode. Drawing in a deep breath, Severus reached out cautiously toward the door handle, turning it and pushing the door open.

Almost at once, the door was pulled open from the inside, and Severus was faced with a tall, slender, bland-faced young man with nondescript blond hair and eyes of indeterminate color. "Welcome home, Death," the young man greeted Severus, seeming unsurprised to be faced with an entirely different "Death" than the one who'd departed whenever his predecessor had last been home. Then Severus realized that he was still wearing the robe with the hood up, and no doubt the young man saw the same skull which had greeted Severus in the mirror. 

Pulling the hood and mask away, Severus raised a brow at the man. "I'm afraid the position has changed hands," he said rather stiffly. He didn't like being the bearer of bad news and perhaps risking an emotional outburst from the help, but as it happened, the young man only shrugged.

"I serve Death, the Office," he replied easily. "Not the person who fills it. Nothing personal, you know."

"Of course," Severus replied. "So, what do I call you?"

The manservant shrugged. "I don't have a name. I was killed by my mother at birth, and she never bothered to give me one." 

His voice was remarkably level for describing such a short, horrible life, and Severus raised a brow. "Then why didn't you go to Heaven?" he asked, unable to fathom an infant being sent to Purgatory.

"The rules, you know." Again the young man shrugged, seeming almost bored by the subject. "My mother was raped, and the stain of that violent act tainted me. Babies conceived in sin are born with balanced souls, and Purgatory is where all souls in balance go when they die. That's how Purgatory is staffed. Very few adults die in perfect balance, so most of us are children who died before free will kicked in and we could tip the balance. We're given information and aged up to what we would have looked like at whatever age we choose, and then we carry out all the functions to keep Purgatory operating. Now, won't you come inside? I'll bring tea. Cinnamon is your favorite, yes?"

That was a surprise, and Severus nodded as he stepped into the mansion. "How did you know?" he asked, wondering if Purgatory was efficient enough to already have prepared for his arrival by informing Death's staff.

"Purgatory television," was the reply. "If you'll have a seat in the parlor - first door on the left - I'll bring the tea. You can watch the television, if you'd like; it will tell you most of what you need to know."

Severus nodded, then turned and strode into the parlor. Apparently he still needed to eat and drink, even in Purgatory, and he was parched. Tea would be soothingly familiar, and he was ready to grasp anything to help orient himself in this bizarre rabbit hole down which he'd apparently fallen.

The parlor was decorated in black, white, and shades of grey. Severus had never thought much of colors, but here they were conspicuously absent, almost as though any hint of color had been sucked out of the surroundings. He took a seat on a black leather sofa, and as he did, a large television mounted to the wall suddenly came to life.

"The new Death has arrived at his residence in Purgatory, and he has immediately begun to ask personal questions of his staff," a male voice intoned, while the picture on the screen showed Severus alighting from Mortis and walking toward the mansion. 

"What in the hell?" Surprised to see himself - although it was hard to tell that it was him in the robes - on the television, Severus could only stare in shock. Purgatory must be woefully short on news if they had time to focus on _him_! Then it became even more surreal, as the report showed pictures of him starting in childhood, his house at Spinner's End, and even a film clip of he and Lily talking. How in the world had they managed to get something like _that_ , when there was no way anyone could have been filming them?

Before he could find something to hurl at the infernal thing, however, the report continued, summing up Severus' life in five minutes, mentioning his role as a Death Eater and his conversion to the side of Light, as well as the reasons why. Severus could feel his face shifting between furious red and blanched white as he listened, but he couldn't look away, fascinated and appalled at the same time. Whoever put the report together blandly rambled on about his successes and his failures, even mentioning the fact that Severus had misled Harry Potter into thinking he'd been in love with his mother - a last act of spite toward the boy who had saved the Wizarding World.

That was the final straw as far as Severus was concerned, and he sprang up, looking for something to toss at the television. 

"The new Death also seems to demonstrate a remarkable lack of respect for the trappings of his office, and he has yet to collect more than a single soul. It remains to be seen whether he will even be able to fulfill the great responsibility which has been given to him, and at this moment, the odds aren't running in his favor. Rather than contemplating destruction, he should be concerning himself with his duties and taking the opportunity to educate himself rather than indulging in juvenile fits of temper - the very thing for which he had so often berated the poor Potter orphan."

That brought Severus up short, and he clenched his fists, grinding his teeth so hard he thought one might break. The television had gone dark - possibly out of a sense of self-preservation - and Severus snarled.

"I brought your tea," the manservant had entered the room so silently Severus hadn't heard him, and he whirled, favoring the man with a glare which didn't seem to ruffle him in the slightest. "If you're not thirsty now, I can take it back to the kitchen."

"What... How...?" So incensed that he could barely speak, Severus pointed at the television. "That _thing_ has to go!"

"I'm afraid that's impossible," was the bland reply. "It's up there and can't be removed, nor will it break. Trust me, your predecessor tried on numerous occasions to destroy it, to no avail. But perhaps you could talk to Purgatory Administration. They're the only ones who can change things."

The young man's calmness in the face of his annoyance frustrated Severus even more, and reminded him bizarrely of Lupin. But if the only way to change things was to find out who was in authority, he'd do exactly that - and woe betide them if he didn't get what he wanted!

Whirling in an impressive flare of robes, Severus stalked toward the door. Someone was going to answer his questions, or they were going to find out that Severus Snape was a worse nightmare than any grim reaper could ever hope to be.


	4. Chapter 4

"Do this, do that. I thought I was finished taking orders," Severus muttered as he stormed out of the Death Mansion. He glanced around and spotted a gate which gave out onto a path, with a helpful sign pointing the way to "Purgatory Administration". With a "hmphf" of annoyance, he headed in that direction, not bothering to summon Mortis. He needed to walk to help deal with his frustration at finding himself caught in some surrealistic, invasive nightmare in which someone seemed to know his every move and stood ready to critique him for not doing things that he had no bloody idea he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

The "day" was pleasant, if one liked bland temperatures and equally bland scenery. A raging thunderstorm would have suited his mood better, but, alas, Purgatory seemed singularly unwilling to cooperate, although it was certainly quick with its own criticism. But Severus didn't spend much time dwelling on the weather or the view; he was too intent on reaching whomever or whatever was in charge of this place and lodging his complaints about how insufferably intrusive the news seemed to be.

His long legs rapidly carried him toward what he could see was a cluster of Muggle-style buildings, grey in color, with few windows and utilitarian lines. A sign pointed out the "Entrance", a single door at the base of the closest building, and Severus headed that way, working up a good snark to take out on whatever unfortunate happened to be the one behind whatever desk he found first.

Entering the building, he was unsurprised to see that the interior was just as boring as the exterior, but what drew his attention was a single desk, behind which a mousy young woman in glasses sat, staring at what Severus thought was a Muggle computer. Brows knit together in a frown, Severus stalked forward, his robes swirling about him in a way which had made the students at Hogwarts flinch back in fear. The young woman paid no attention to Severus' approach, and neither did she look up when he stopped in front of her desk and glared down at her.

His frustration mounting, Severus reached out and rapped on her desk with his fist. Then she did look up, but there was nothing, not even curiosity, in her brown eyes. 

"Yes, Death?" she asked, with the same bored tone Severus had heard countless times from mindless Ministry drones. 

"This is unacceptable!" he snapped. "Who or what is responsible for the invasion of my privacy? That television has been blathering on non-stop about me since I arrived! I want to see whomever is responsible so that I can show them exactly what a 'fate worse than Death' really is!"

"No one is invading your privacy, Death," the woman said, shrugging. "Only you see whatever is on that television; it's part of the magic."

"What?" Severus snorted in disbelief. "Why would it go on so insultingly just for _my_ benefit?"

The woman shrugged again. "I'm sure I don't know, Death. If you'd like to fill out a complaint form, no doubt someone will investigate at some point during the next millennium."

"WHAT?" Severus gaped, hating that he was repeating himself, but unable to stop his reaction. "A thousand years to investigate a complaint? That's absurd!"

"We're short handed." The womanshook her head. "All the souls working in Purgatory died in balance and couldn't be sorted to either Heaven or Hell. That doesn't happen often, you know, so there's never enough of us to do the work. Fortunately we don't much care, either."

Severus blinked, then pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. It made a horrible sort of sense that those who were neither good nor evil would be sentenced to a lifetime of civil servitude, but it also meant, like most civil servants, they didn't really care about their jobs. What was the point, after all? This was their eternity, and going either a good job or a bad one wouldn't change their fate.

Obviously he was just going to get angrier, especially given that he also seemed to be falling behind on his "schedule", which would just lead to him being more frustrated. It was tempting to sit down and adopt the young woman's attitude, except for the fact that Minerva had told him that _his_ fate could still be changed. In his case, doing what was expected to him would earn him a tangible reward, which would be a first. Twenty years of serving two masters hadn't yielded anything except... well, _this_.

Putting aside the matter of the television for the moment, Severus looked at the young woman again. "I was going to ask for an assistant to aide me with this horrifically complicated 'schedule' that I'm apparently on, but I suppose that's useless too, right?" If they were short-handed, no doubt they wouldn't grant his request, and, to be honest, he'd rather destroy anyone who was as bland and uninterested as the woman before him than have them following him around for eternity.

"Oh, I don't know," she replied, actually seeming interested. "Have you got anyone in the bag? If one of them doesn't sort, you could keep them."

"I could?" Severus asked, lifting a brow. Then he rolled his eyes. Unless the previous Death had a few "clients" floating in the bag, the only one in there was Lupin, and that simply wasn't going to work. Pulling it from his robes, Severus gave a long-suffering sigh. "So how do I sort this lot, anyway? I've been kept in the dark about what in Hell I'm meant to be doing!"

"You mean what in Purgatory you're meant to be doing," the young woman replied officiously. Severus glared, but she hurried on. "Look in your pockets. There should be two stones in there, a matching set. You use them to read the soul; they'll weigh the good and evil and give you a reading."

Severus fished in his pockets again, and this time, he drew out two polished cabochons in a half-moon shape, obviously a matched set; one was dark brown, and the other was a dull yellow. Both were pulsing slightly, as if trying to draw his attention. He frowned, puzzled about how he was meant to use rocks to read a human soul, but the woman was watching him expectantly, so he assumed they were the right tools. Belatedly, he remembered Minerva mentioning something about soul stones, and he supposed these must be what she had been referring to.

Dipping into the bag, he drew out the single soul within it, holding it in one hand, and then he waved the yellow stone over it experimentally. To his surprise, the stone began to grow brighter, its glow intensifying as he moved it slowly over the length and breadth of Lupin's soul. By the time he'd covered the entire expanse, the yellow stone was shining brightly, and he put it aside in favor of repeating the process with the brown stone; this time, the stone grew darker and darker until it was as black as midnight.

When he was finished, he couldn't discern just by looking at them which way Lupin's soul would go, and then it occurred to him to put the stones together again. Sure enough, they fit together like they were drawn by magnets, and the orb they formed hovered in front of Severus without moving up or down.

"That's a keeper!" the woman said, seeming pleased. Before Severus could protest, she stood with surprising quickness and took Lupin's soul from Severus' hand, dropping it through a slot in her desk. 

"What are you doing?" he asked sharply, annoyed at her presumption. He was about to move to loom over her, but the orb suddenly stopped glowing and began to fall, and Severus instinctively reached out to catch it, tucking it safely back into his pocket.

"Processing him," she replied easily. "Lupin, Remus John. Deceased wizard and werewolf. Currently on the staff of Death. He's all yours!"

"Wait!" Severus protested. He did need an assistant, but... Lupin? Lupin hated him, and Severus could barely tolerate him, either. There was too much history, too much bad blood. Severus was finding his new position challenging enough without having Lupin there undermining him, questioning his judgment, and being so bloody, insufferably _polite_. "This is a mistake!"

"It's done," the young woman sat down in her chair again. "You can always file a complaint if you'd like, but if there's nothing else, Death, then come back in an hour and he'll be ready. Don't be late. You have a schedule to keep, you know!"

Severus wanted to scream. He wanted to kick something, to throw a tantrum the likes of which would have had the walls of this place ringing, but the problem was that no one would care. All they cared about was that he collected the souls and processed them, not about whether he was _happy_ doing so. It was no different than teaching at Hogwarts or working for the Dark Lord: what he wanted didn't figure into the equation, only what he must do in order to redeem his soul.

Whirling, Severus turned and stalked from the room. This might be Purgatory, but at the moment, he was having a hard time discerning how it could be any different from Hell.


	5. Chapter 5

When Remus returned to consciousness, he opened his eyes and looked around, uncertain of what to expect. He hadn't been particularly religious during his life; his mother had been C of E, and he'd accompanied her to church before he began attending Hogwarts, but after that, he drifted away from the church and from spirituality. Life hadn't left him much in the way of faith in anything, including God, and he'd had doubts about whether there was an afterlife at all.

When he saw he'd woken up in a drab office, he had the fleeting thought that perhaps he hadn't died at all, despite his memory of a blinding flash of green light preceding the worst pain of his life, and he turned to the young woman at the nearest desk, hoping to get some answers.

"Yes, you're really dead," she said as soon as he opened his mouth, as if she knew what his inevitable first question would be.

He rocked back on his heels, surprised and dismayed. "But if I'm dead, then where am I?"

"Purgatory," she replied, tilting her head up to look at him and pushing her glasses up her nose. "But not for long. You've been reassigned to Death's household. Seems the new incarnation wants a personal assistant, and you're it. We've fitted you with everything you need to know." She glanced at a clock on the far wall. "He should be back soon. I told him you'd be ready in about an hour."

"Wait, what do you mean, you 'fitted' me with what I need to know?" he asked, too confused to make any sense of this unexpected situation.

"I mean," she said patiently, "we downloaded a handbook into your head. If Death has a question, you'll have the answer."

"But Death isn't a real person!" he protested. "It's a process - a state of being-"

"An immortal Incarnation," she interrupted. "Death is an office - a position that can be held by a formerly real person." She pointed to a long row of drab chairs that had no discernible style. "You can wait over there until he gets back."

Remus understood he was being dismissed, and from the amount of paperwork in the woman's in-box, he could see why. Despite the questions he longed to ask, he sat down to wait; with any luck, Death would be more forthcoming with answers than the woman had been. 

Time seemed to crawl by, every minute an eternity, and yet Death didn't come. At first, Remus sat on the edge of his chair and watched the entrance with a mix of eagerness and anxiety, but eventually, he sat back and stopped watching, losing himself in thought instead. If he was dead and in Purgatory, that must mean his soul hadn't been good enough for Heaven or bad enough for Hell, which caused him some chagrin. He'd wanted to be a good man, but obviously he'd failed at that along with so many other things, and he had a pretty good idea of when and how he'd failed.

He was growing annoyed, mostly with himself. He'd thought he would survive the war and have a normal life; instead, he was dead, Tonks was dead, and their son was an orphan. There would be no more second chances to fix things or make better choices; his life was over. And what had he done with it? Now he was to spend his afterlife as Death's personal assistant instead of joining his friends and family in whatever afterlife they had attained. And on top of all that, Death was late. It figured!

Rising to his feet, Remus returned to the woman's desk and cleared his throat. "It's been a lot longer than an hour," he said.

"Has it?" She glanced up at the clock, seeming surprised. "Huh. So it has." She frowned in obvious annoyance. "I _told_ him to come back and get you. Well, I suppose you'll just have to go to him." She tapped a few keys on her keyboard, and the printer on her desk began to hum and spit out a color-coded map. When it was finished, she handed it to him and traced his route with her forefinger. "You're here. Death's mansion is there. Just follow the red line on the map, and you shouldn't have any problem finding it."

"Thanks." Remus clutched the map tightly and set off, glad to be able to move and _do_ something rather than just sit around and wait. He'd done enough of that during his life; he didn't want to spend his death doing the same thing.

The scenery along the way was so bland and nondescript that he couldn't have described it if his life depended on it; it wasn't ugly, but it wasn't beautiful either, and he didn't get distracted by any of the sights as he hurried along. The map didn't give him any sense of distance, and he walked for quite some time before he finally saw what had to be Death's estate in the distance, and he quickened his pace, eager to reach his destination. When he reached the front door, he stuffed the map in the pocket of his cardigan and reached for the knocker - a Death's head, of course - and knocked firmly.

A bland-faced young man answered the door. "Mr. Lupin?" he asked. "Death is in the parlor..."

"I'm not here!" a deep voice shouted from within. "Tell him he can be reassigned! I've changed my mind!"

Remus blinked, startled by the sound of a familiar voice. That sounded like... But surely not!

"Er... Severus?" he asked hesitantly. "Is that you?"

"Mr. Snape is the new Death," the manservant said helpfully, and Remus heard a great deal of profanity answering that reply, followed by the sound of footsteps ringing on stone, and then door was pulled further open as Severus shouldered the manservant out of the way.

"Lupin," he greeted Remus briefly, his back stiff. "I asked for an assistant, but I'm certain you'll agree that you're not a suitable candidate for the position. No doubt they can find you another job that will be far less...." Severus seemed uncharacteristically lost for words for a moment, then he shrugged. " _Fraught._ "

"Fraught with what?" Remus asked, regarding Severus curiously. He was dying - well, all right, perhaps that wasn't the best choice of words - but he was desperately curious to know how Severus had ended up holding the office of Death, but he wouldn't get any answers if Severus sent him away. "I'm pretty well beyond worrying about mortal peril at this point."

Severus snorted. "You know very well what with, Lupin! After almost thirty years of being at odds with each other, I doubt the wisdom of the two of us working together for what could be a very, very long time." He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Remus. "Can you honestly say you are ready to loyally serve the man who killed Albus Dumbledore?"

As soon as the question was out of Severus' mouth, Remus felt an odd little jolt inside of his head, and he was overwhelmed by a rush of information. "You killed him because he wanted you to," he said, the words tumbling out of their own accord. "He was dying anyway because of the curse damage he took trying to destroy the ring, and when he found out you took an Unbreakable Vow to fulfill Draco's task, he suspected how things would play out. You didn't want to kill him. You argued with him about it all year, but in the end, you did it to protect Draco, so you didn't actually betray Dumbledore or the Order."

There was no mistaking the dumbfounded look on Severus' face; it was probably the most stunned Remus had ever seen him. But he recovered, closing his mouth with a snap and blowing out a huffing breath, nostrils flaring with indignation as he threw up his hands. "How did you know all that? Everyone in this damned place knows everything, except _me_!"

Remus reached up to adjust his glasses and released a long breath as he recovered from the unexpected blast of information, but it seemed that Severus' next question triggered another, thankfully smaller, burst. "I know because all information pertinent to your life and your new office was downloaded into my mind so that I could serve as an effective and efficient personal assistant."

Again Severus looked taken aback, and then he covered his face with his hands for a long moment. Remus thought he heard low pitched muttering, although it was impossible to tell if Severus were cursing, praying, or simply counting. The he drew in a breath and dropped his hands again, his expression impassive. "I suppose that if I were to send you off, they'd conveniently _not_ remove my private information from your mind, and in a fit of 'helpfulness', they'd simply give it to someone else." He fixed Remus with an intent look. "Fine. We'll give this a try, if for no other reason than I'm falling further behind on their bloody schedule, and they are threatening to give me a bad rating during my 'probationary period'. But make no mistake, Lupin: I have something riding on this, while it seems that your fate is sealed. If you try to interfere, I shall find some way to make things unpleasant for you. If you can accept those conditions, you can stay; otherwise, take yourself back to Purgatory Administration, and no doubt they'll find some mountain of paperwork for you to shuffle for the next thousand years."

At Severus' confirmation that his fate was sealed - that he wasn't good enough for one or the other but relegated to be an eternal outsider - Remus felt a sense of disappointment and dejection settle on him. That he knew he'd brought this on himself made him feel worse, but he couldn't blame anyone else for the things he hadn't done; he wished he'd woken up and realized he needed to take control of his life while he was still alive, but he'd thought there would be more time, that things would change. Now it was too late, and he was stuck.

"I won't undermine you," he said quietly, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I don't have anything to gain by it, and I'm not vindictive enough to keep you from changing your fate, if you can."

"That remains to be seen," Severus muttered, running a hand through his hair. "If Death had waited five more minutes to come for me, I'd be shuffling papers, too - if I was lucky." He looked at the manservant. "Jeeves, make sure there's a room prepared in this mausoleum for him upon our return."

"Yes, Death." The bland young man bowed and moved away, and Severus stepped outside of the mansion. 

"Pardon me if a tour has to wait for later. We need to get going, and I am in serious need of information along the way. Mortis!"

"Yes, Severus," Remus replied, sounding subdued even to his own ears, but he felt subdued, his usual 'roll with the punches' attitude gone for the time being. Then again, he'd experienced the ultimate punch; he supposed it could have been worse in that he could have been sent to Hell, but somehow, it was more of a blow to feel like neither place wanted him. He wasn't resentful that Severus had a chance for redemption - not quite - but he wasn't thrilled either. Still, he had a job to do and nothing ahead of him for the rest of eternity but to do it, and so he followed Severus outside in silence, his hands buried in the pockets of his cardigan.

There was a rush of air, and then an elegant flying carpet halted before them. "I take it you know about Mortis? No doubt better than I do," Severus said dryly. He moved onto the carpet and sat down, then raised a brow at Remus.

"Mortis is Death's sentient traveling companion," Remus said, letting the words flow without inflection as he too climbed onto the carpet and sat a safe distance away from Severus. "Mortis can assume many forms, adaptable for travel on a variety of terrains, and travel at accelerated speed in order to convey Death to his appointments within the proscribed time limitations."

"Exactly!" Severus snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as Mortis lifted into the air. "Couldn't they have simply told me that, perhaps with a nice little pamphlet or something? Or give a warning? 'Before killing someone you think is a Death Eater but is actually Death Incarnate, make sure you read the standard disclaimers, no implied guarantees, assume at your own risk.'" He glanced over at Remus. "And what, may I ask, is wrong with you? If you don't want the job, you're free to leave. At least you're not in Purgatory by your own fault. I handily sentenced myself to this special little piece of not-quite-Hell."

"And I didn't?" Remus asked flatly. "You said yourself that if I don't do this job, I'll have to go back to Purgatory Headquarters. At least if I remain your personal assistant, I won't be stuck behind a desk." He sighed and shook his head. "I just woke up dead, Severus. Forgive me if I'm not able to frolic with rainbows and puppies quite yet. It has nothing to do with you."

Severus frowned, his mouth twisting as though he'd bitten into something sour, but then he gave a put upon sigh. "Fine. I happen to be able to empathize with that - only I woke up dead with McGonagall smacking me around and telling me to hurry up and start collecting souls, as though I were a dunderheaded First Year lost on the way to the Great Hall." He shook his head and snorted. "Look, Lupin, just help me get through this bit until I have some understanding of what's going on myself, and I'll try to get your case reviewed, all right? You weren't actually half-evil, at least not on your own; the Dark Magic of being a werewolf counted heavily against your soul. Surely there has to be some way to appeal that decision for mitigating circumstances. Perhaps there are even lawyers in Purgatory... unless they're all in Hell. But no matter, I give you my word I'll try to help you, if you'll help me."

Remus grimaced, not at all surprised to learn the curse had been counted against him, even though that was one thing that _hadn't_ been his fault. He hadn't asked to be turned into a monster; Greyback had stalked him and turned him in retaliation for some imagined slight Remus' father had given Greyback, and Remus had spent the rest of his life paying for it. Apparently, he was going to spend his afterlife paying for it, too.

"I already said I would help you," he replied with a slight shrug. "You don't have to bribe me to do it. Somehow I doubt there's a court of appeals in the afterlife anyway."

"You'd be surprised," Severus replied. He tilted his head and gave a somewhat evil smile. " _Is_ there a court of appeals in the afterlife?"

"Yes," Remus replied, surprising himself with the answer. "But it is slow and inefficient, and few cases are overturned. Death does some influence on the cases brought to the court, should Death choose to exert it." He paused, wanting to make certain no more information was forthcoming. "All right, I stand corrected. There is a court of appeals."

Severus nodded, as though satisfied. "Very good." His watch beeped, and he frowned at it. "We're getting close, but there are still a few minutes." He held his wrist out toward Remus. "Can you explain how this works?"

"The hours dial records your schedule backlog. The highest button freezes your timer," Remus said, pointing to the button in question. "The zeroing button will reset the timer if you need extra travel time. If you hit both at once, it is a code that will summon Chronos. If you pull out the center button, you will stop all time, but if you hold for more than thirty minutes, it starts to count as tardiness, and you have to make up the time. If you run more than twelve hours later after your probation period ends, there could be a review that will damage your performance rating."

For a few moments, Severus was silent. "Stop all time. I see," he said finally, keeping his eyes on the watch. An expression that was almost vulnerable crossed his features. "Did you suspect that anything like this existed? That Minerva was more than she seemed? That there are... things beyond even the Wizarding world?" He looked toward Remus then, his expression troubled. "If the Dark Lord had known, he'd have stopped at nothing to possess something like this. It's... too much. You've seen what power does in the hands of the wrong people! What if..." He gave a harsh laugh. "This is beyond bottling fame and brewing glory! I thought I could stopper death, but instead I've _become_ Death!"

"I had no idea," Remus replied. Although Severus had asked several questions, they were all aimed at Remus himself rather than at his role as personal assistant, but he answered honestly nonetheless. "I think in this situation, we're like Muggles who live their entire lives without ever suspecting that magic exists and that people they know could be witches or wizards. For all our knowledge, understanding, and power, there are still mysteries in the world that are beyond even us. It's rather humbling, I think."

"It is." Severus looked at the watch again, shaking his head, and then he sat up straighter, shrugging off a mood that had been seemed close to brooding. "We're almost there. Mortis, please take us down."

Mortis obligingly descended through the clouds, and they emerged in a dreary, overcast city. They reached the ground without being spotted, and before either of them could protest, Mortis had shifted form, becoming a Muggle automobile: a big, pale luxury sedan whose engine rumbled with barely leashed power. Severus was behind the wheel, but it was obvious from the way he looked at it that he wasn't driving. It would be surprising if he even knew how.

Fortunately they didn't have far to go, and within moments, Mortis stopped in front of a run-down looking apartment building. Severus looked at his watch, and then he opened the door. "This seems to be the place. Would you prefer to remain here?" he asked, one brow raised in what seemed to be a challenge.

Remus repressed a sigh at the unspoken challenge: _do you have the guts to watch, Lupin, or are you too cowardly to come along?_ It seemed as if Severus had always wanted to prove something, and apparently, that hadn't changed even after death. Or Death. For his part, Remus was in no mood for challenges or games, and so he responded with brisk matter-of-factness.

"I'll go with you," he said as he opened the passenger side door and climbed out of the sleek car. "You might have questions that I need to answer."

"All right," Severus replied, nodding slightly as though pleased with Remus' choice. He donned a pair of gloves that made his hands look skeletal and pulled up the hood of his robe, and suddenly there was a skull where Severus' face had been, which was disconcerting, to say the least. Then he turned toward the building before Remus could do more than gape at the transformation. "Let's go."

As soon as Remus moved away from Mortis, he felt a strange sensation... not quite a jolt, more like a shudder or a ripple, but it was difficult to wrap words around it. All he knew was that it felt odd, and when it passed, he looked down at himself - and saw _through_ himself.

"Dear Merlin! I'm a ghost!"

Severus turned around, but it was impossible to read his expression through the illusion of the skull. "So you are," he said, then shrugged expressively. "It makes sense. Your body is back at Hogwarts, I suspect, but all the souls in Purgatory seem as solid as you did, at least there. So is that what it is? You're a ghost while on Earth, but solid when in Purgatory?"

"Yes, I'll only be solid when I'm on a non-material realm such as Purgatory," Remus replied as another one of those information flashes took over his mind and mouth. "Or when I am traveling on or in Mortis. On the earthly realm, I'll be immaterial." He paused, then added wryly, "In more ways than one."

There was a snort, and then Severus turned away and started toward the building again. "And I'm ignored because no one wants to see Death coming," he replied, opening the door to the building and stepping inside. Remus could see that Severus was looking at the watch, and Severus turned to the left, moving down the corridor, then stopping in front of a door. "All right, then, what do I do now? Knock? Break in?" 

Remus scarcely needed the flashes to let him answer that one, but he gave the official response first. "You open the door and walk in. The tools of your office, including your clothes, ensure that you will have no impediments to fulfilling your job. You will be impervious to heat, cold, or obstacles. You will even be able to walk on water." When the flash faded, he gave Severus a look. "Really, Severus. Since when has a locked door ever stood in the way of Death?"

That earned him an indignant sniff, but Severus reached out and turned the doorknob. The door opened obligingly, and Severus stepped into the flat, leaving Remus to follow.

The place was dingy and cluttered, with peeling paper on the walls and stains on the ceiling. The furniture was old and ramshackle, the sofa so lumpy it was almost possible to miss the form of a young man who huddled in one corner, knees pulled up to his chest. There was a gun in one of his hands, and as Remus watched, he raised it to his temple, the gun trembling so much it was a wonder he didn't drop it. Obviously he was about to commit suicide.

Severus stood watching, the tension making the moment seem drawn out, almost endless. Then, just as the young man was about to pull the trigger, Severus suddenly stepped forward and spoke.

"Stop!"

The young man gasped, obviously startled at the voice, but when his eyes moved to Severus, it was apparent he could see who had spoken.

"D - Death?" he stammered, eyes so wide that it was possible to see the whites around the irises. His brown hair was dirty, long, and unkempt, and he was dressed in stained jeans and a dirty shirt. There was also an obvious, ugly bruise on the side of his face, and around his neck was another ring of bruises, obviously where someone had tried to choke him.

"Yes," Severus replied, his tone deep and authoritative, the same tone he used with students when he expected to be listened to. "I'm Death, and I'm here to collect your soul because you are in balance. But I want to know why you're doing this before I take you. Why are you giving up?"

The young man laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "I'm probably already dead, or dying and hallucinating this, but what the hell, I'll go along," he replied. "My father tried to kill me earlier. I'm just finishing what he started to save him the trouble of doing it again." He gestured with the gun, indicating the disgusting flat. "What have I got to live for, anyway? More beatings? I dropped out of school and I can't find work; there's nothing for me, nothing but pain. I steal just to have something to eat, and now that I'm eighteen, they aren't going to treat me as a juvenile any more, so the next time I get caught, it's prison, and that'll be even worse. I just want it over!" His voice rose as he spoke, and by the end, it was cracking painfully.

Surprisingly, Severus listened to this without interruption, but when the boy fell silent, he stepped even closer. "You're a fool," he replied, his tone brooking no argument. "You are young and in reasonably good health, and from the way you speak, it's obvious you have at least half a brain in your head, and it would be sheer folly to blow what there is of it out! You're letting your father do this to you, when all you have to do is walk out that door and away from here. It might be horrible here, but you have no idea what there might be outside of this hovel, if you had the guts to go look!"

Remus watched and listened in silence; he wasn't sure he would be visible, much less audible, anyway, and he got the feeling this situation was hitting a little close to home for Severus. He was sympathetic to the young man as well, and he hoped Severus would convince him not to throw his life away. From his own new vantage point, Remus found life far more precious now than he ever had when he was alive, and he was dismayed that anyone would willingly throw their life away. Instead, he drifted closer to Severus in hopes of showing silent solidarity through proximity.

The young man shook his head. "You're wrong, there's nothing! My mum's dead, and no one else ever cared about me!"

"Apparently not even _you_ ," Severus shot back. "So you're going to let your father win? He tried to kill you, and you're conveniently finishing the job so that he won't go to prison! Hah! Perhaps you aren't as intelligent as I thought!"

"I got good grades in school!" The young man suddenly sounded defensive. "But what was the point? The other kids laughed at me because I only had ragged clothes, so I didn't have friends. No one cared!"

"Are you sure about that?" Severus shrugged, the shoulders of the black robes lifting and lowering. "No one at all? No teacher, no administrator, no relative? No one is going to trip over themselves to give you help. You have to ask for it!"

"I never asked." The young man shuddered and dropped the gun to the floor, wrapping his arms around his legs. "I guess I should have, but... I didn't think they'd care, and I didn't want to be rejected."

"You can always blow your brains out if you don't get what you need," Severus replied, then pointed at the young man. "But it is stupid not to try all your options first! Things don't simply fall into your lap; you have to work for them, and that means growing a spine and asking for help when you need it. Otherwise you could go down a far worse path than this. But if you do, you might be surprised at what help you might receive."

The young man was silent for several long moments. "I guess you're right," he murmured, then sighed. "It just seemed so hopeless." He looked at Severus. "I'm... I'm not dead yet, am I? I mean, if this is a dream..."

"It's a dream," Severus replied. "You were having a nightmare, but it can be better. It's up to you to end it." He pointed to the gun. "And _not_ that way. Get up, get out of here... your mind is telling you what to do. You've not given up all hope." With that, Severus turned and stalked toward the door again, stopping just before he reached it and turning to look at the young man. "I do _not_ want to see you again, do you understand? I have enough to do without having to tell you what you already know!"

Opening the door, Severus stepped out into the hallway. Remus followed along behind, glancing back at the young man once on the way out of the dingy little room, and then he caught up with Severus, hurrying to keep pace with Severus' long-legged gait.

"That was unexpected," he said at last, casting a sidelong glance at Severus. "I never imagined you would give anyone a second chance." He didn't add, _you didn't give me one_, but he thought it.

Severus grunted in response, moving quickly back to Mortis. He opened the door and slid onto the seat, then pulled his hood down, his own features coming into view once again.

"I don't know if I was supposed to do that," he said, looking down at the Death Watch, which now showed a time of 0:18 - eighteen minutes to the next soul. Apparently the Watch wasn't dwelling on the soul not being taken. "How much trouble will I be in? Not that I care."

"What you did was irregular, but not technically against the rules," Remus replied matter-of-factly as he settled into the passenger seat. "It will likely come up in your performance review, but it's only one of several factors that determine whether you have fulfilled the office satisfactorily or not."

"Hmpfh." Severus shrugged. "Since they didn't bother to explain the parameters beforehand, I won't apologize for doing as I please," he said. "Taking that young man would have served no purpose, and I doubt that he'll now die in balance, so I don't see how I could have upset the system too much. And if I did, they can simply deal with it. It's not as though _I_ have gone around extracting promises from people that they will commit murder in order to serve my own agenda."

"True enough." Remus inclined his head to acknowledge the point. No doubt Albus' murder had counted against Severus, despite what he had done for the greater good to make up for the mistakes of his youth.

"On to the next collection," Severus said. "Mortis, can you please take us there?" He closed his eyes and let his head drop back against the headrest. "I hope they all aren't this complicated. I'm hardly qualified to be giving people advice about their lives, nor do I wish to." He snorted. "I still think McGonagall had a hand in all this. It would be just like that meddling old woman to put me in this sort of position."

"I imagine most of your cases will be complicated, since they will involve people who hang in the balance. If it was easy, they would find their way to eternity on their own," Remus said, shrugging slightly and turning his gaze out the window to watch the scenery rush by. "As for McGonagall, I don't know. The only information I have pertains to you, not her."

"I'll get to the bottom of it, eventually," Severus replied. "I'm not about to be used for yet another powerful person's games."

"You're powerful in your own right now," Remus pointed out flatly. "It would be rather difficult to use Death, I should think."

"Would it? Would it really?" Severus asked, then shrugged. "You don't have to answer that. I already know the answer. Anyone can be used, Lupin, anyone at all. It doesn't matter how powerful you are; all that matters is that someone knows your weaknesses. Everyone has weaknesses, and mine led me to this." He turned his attention to Remus. "It could just as easily have been you, you realize. If Death had gone for you first, rather than me, you might have been the one to kill him, and now you'd be in my position. Perhaps if Minerva hadn't been with me, you might have somehow been able to kill _me_."

"No, I wouldn't have. I remember how I died. I was hit by the Killing Curse. Somehow, I doubt I was capable of sitting up and defending myself." Remus sighed and rubbed his forehead, feeling as if he would have a headache by now if he still inhabited a real body. He supposed it was foolish to be annoyed with Severus for giving the young man a break, but not him; the young man hadn't died yet, and Remus had, which meant there was no reversal possible, no matter how much he would have given for a second chance. It didn't seem fair, but nothing about his life had been fair, so he supposed he ought not expect his afterlife to be any different, and if there was one thing he had learned how to do while he was living, it was put on a good face and keep slogging. "Anyway, it's a moot point," he said. "You're here now, and you don't know for certain whether it was arranged or not. Either way, you still have a job to do, unless you want to abdicate and take your chances."

"I don't rule it out, but no, not quite yet," Severus replied. Mortis shifted back to the form of a magic carpet, and suddenly they were in the clouds again. "If nothing else, if someone _is_ pulling my strings, I want to know... because I will deal with them most harshly."

"Mm." Remus made a noncommittal noise without further comment. Dealing harshly with his adversaries was nothing new for Severus, and the thought _had_ crossed Remus' mind that Severus was vindictive enough not to have given him a second chance even if it had been possible because of their tumultuous shared history.

Fortunately he didn't have to say anything else; Mortis was descending again, and suddenly they were on the ground, Mortis having switched form again, this time to a pale horse whose hooves pounded into the rough ground. Remus found himself suddenly switched from sitting beside Severus to astride the horse behind him, and he instinctively flung his arms around Severus' waist. Ghost or not, he didn't fancy taking a tumble and being left behind; there was no guarantee Severus would come back for him, after all. On the other hand, there was no guarantee Severus wouldn't lop off his arms for touching him, and he kept his hold as loose as possible and leaned back, keeping a safe distance between them.

They didn't have far to go, however, which was a good thing, considering that there was gunfire coming from the burned out wreckage of the houses around them. Severus yanked up his hood, apparently not willing to take a chance on Mortis' protection alone, and he leaned forward, low over Mortis' neck. Mortis didn't slow until they reached the outskirts, and Severus pointed him toward a stand of trees. 

"It's over here," Severus said, sliding down off of Mortis a bit awkwardly, making it obvious he didn't know anything about how to ride a horse. He adjusted his robes, then started off toward the trees. There was still the sound of gunfire from not too far away, and Severus didn't wait to see if Remus would follow. They were obviously in the middle of a war, and given that they'd both recently died in one, it was little wonder Severus was in a hurry.


	6. Chapter 6

It was, Severus thought, just his luck to land in the middle of a battle again, as though he'd not had enough of this in the Wizarding world in the last few years. Not to mention that while he had been told he was safe in his robe, gloves, and boots, he didn't want to be faced with putting them to the test against Muggle weaponry. He kept glancing around to check for the approach of any enemies, while sneaking peeks at the Watch to guide him to his "client". He was being led toward the trees, and he didn't waste any time heading for them, relieved when he saw the body of the middle-aged man sprawled beneath them, already looking like a corpse. No talking this time, then, for which he was grateful, and Severus knelt down, reaching out toward the body and pulling free the soul without any ceremony.

He reached for the bag in his pocket, slipping the soul inside quickly before turning to head back toward Mortis. The sooner he was out of here the better. A glance showed that Lupin's features were a mask of neutrality as he stood waiting by the horse, hiding whatever he might be thinking or feeling about the situation, but the mere fact that he _was_ masking made Severus suspect he was as eager to be away from a scene that hit too close to home as Severus was.

"Death!" A familiar voice greeted him, and when he turned, he saw a figure clad in armor approaching, a figure that wore a familiar face: that of Regulus Black.

Stunned, Severus could only stare for a moment as the spectre of his long-dead friend walked toward him, looking little changed from the last time Severus had seen him almost twenty years before. Regulus had been Severus' only real friend, the only one of the Slytherins Severus had actually trusted, and Severus was in shock at finding that Regulus was here and seemed to know him. Then it struck him: Regulus didn't know _him_. He recognized Severus' office.

"Regulus?" he said, forgetting about the war and the danger. He pulled back his hood so that Regulus could see his face, not the skull. "Is it really you?"

Regulus stopped in his tracks, his features suffused with shock, and then he strode forward quickly, smiling with obvious pleasure at seeing his old friend again. "It is," he replied, reaching out to clasp Severus' shoulder in a firm grip. "I'm as surprised to see you as you are to see me! I had no idea there was a new Death in office, much less that it would be you."

"It's barely been a day," Severus replied, returning the clasp. "You have no idea how good it is to see you, my friend. I never thought..." He stopped, shaking his head. "Obviously, I thought you were dead. You aren't, but... who _are_ you?"

"I was tapped to be the Incarnation of War," Regulus replied. "I _was_ dying. Did anyone ever figure out what happened to me? Allegedly, I mean. I was in that chamber, surrounded by Inferi, and the former Incarnation showed up and offered me an out. He was ready to retire, and he was impressed by my efforts to undermine You-Know-Who, so he offered me the job. I've been holding the office ever since."

"We knew you'd taken the Horcrux and assumed you had died in the process," Severus said. "And McGonagall is Fate? How coincidental is that?"

Regulus shrugged and spread his hands. "Maybe she put in a good word for me," he said. "I haven't questioned it. Nepotism isn't unheard of, even among the Incarnations. You recruit from who you know since all of us have to work together. Besides, I like this better than the alternative."

Severus considered that, then shook his head. "I suppose," he replied. "But whatever the reason, I _am_ very glad to see you. It makes me feel like it might actually be worth keeping the bloody job, knowing I have a friend here who understands."

"I'm glad to see you, too." Regulus' smile was warm and genuine, and he reached out to squeeze Severus' arm again. "If I can do anything to help, let me know. You're in your probation period now, though, so you've got time to settle in and adjust." He glanced over at Mortis, his expression turning curious. "Who's the phantom sidekick?"

"You don't recognize him?" Severus asked, surprised. "It's Remus Lupin. He's the first soul I collected, and when I asked for an assistant, he was assigned to me." For some reason, saying it didn't irritate him as much as he expected it would, and he couldn't help but think of the moment, on Mortis, when Lupin put his arms around his waist. No one had touched him that intimately in years, and rather than it annoying him, his breath had actually caught, which was ridiculous. Lupin was a soul, and Severus was... well, Death. How in the hell could he have a reaction like that under those circumstances, much less to Lupin, whose history with him was complicated at best and horrific at worst?

"That's Lupin?" Regulus' dark brows climbed as he took a closer look at Lupin, who endured the inquisitive regard with impassive calm. "No, I didn't recognize him. I never paid as much attention to my brother's friends as you did, and I suppose the grey hair and glasses threw me off." He turned his attention back to Severus, his expression growing concerned. "You've buried the hatchet, then? I seem to remember you didn't get along with that crowd."

"We're both dead," Severus replied, shrugging slightly. "As vindictive as I can be, carrying it through to the next life seems a bit much, don't you think?"

"I'd say so," Regulus replied, the corners of his mouth lifting in a wry smile. "But I've had far more time to distance myself from my mortal life than you have. It's a sensible approach. You'll have enough to keep you busy without dragging around baggage from your past. It's very different, seeing the world from this perspective, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"What little I've managed, when I haven't been being berated by the damned television set, yes," Severus muttered. He'd not thought he meant what he said about Lupin, mostly covering for Regulus' benefit, but then he realized that he actually did think that way. Somehow having moved on to such a different place and having had all the familiar things stripped away was helping him see things differently, even in such a short time. Or maybe he was just still in shock.

Regulus laughed and gave him a jovial swat on the back. "We all have those television sets, each one spewing all the latest gossip about us. It's a way of giving us feedback so we'll have a decent idea of what to expect when we come up for review. Mine constantly yammers about my fondness for underdog rebellions."

Severus snorted. "So you've stayed true to form, then?" he asked. His watch beeped, and he sighed as he glanced at it, seeing that he had only ten minutes to get to his next appointment. "Look, I have to go. Shall we meet up later in Purgatory? It would be good to catch up."

"Of course," Regulus replied, nodding. "I'm sure we'll overlap again. Death and War go hand-in-hand, which is unfortunate for mortals, but not so bad as far as I'm concerned, now that you're here," he added, his smile turning flirtatious. "But it would be nice to meet off the clock."

It was a surprise to see that edge to Regulus' smile; Severus had no illusions about his looks, and Regulus was still as young and beautiful as Severus remembered him. He also had the confidence that maturity brought, which was even more attractive. Perhaps this was simply a new side of Regulus, and Severus decided not to read too much into it. "You know where I live. Feel free to stop in any time," he said. He touched Regulus briefly on the shoulder, then pulled up his hood before turning and heading back to Mortis, where Lupin waited.

"That was a surprise," he said, feeling it necessary to make some comment. Mortis knelt, much to his relief, and so Severus didn't look like a complete idiot climbing back up onto the Death Steed's back.

"I'm sure it was," Lupin replied as he climbed up behind Severus and rested his hands lightly at Severus' waist, curling his fingers into Severus' robes to hold on rather than sliding his arms around Severus again. "Although now I must wonder how many other Incarnations wear familiar faces. McGonagall, Regulus Black, now you. I wonder who else was chosen to fill a position. Perhaps I should count myself fortunate that I was deemed worthy to be an assistant instead of passed over entirely." Lupin might have done well at keeping his emotions off his face, but there was no disguising the trace of bitterness in his voice, and Severus twisted around in the saddle to look at him.

"You're acting like a child who didn't get an invitation to a party," Severus replied, his tone not holding any sympathy. "I didn't choose this, and if I could give you the bloody job, you'd be welcome to it!"

Lupin stared back at him, appearing dumbfounded. "You spent your whole life stewing in your own bitter juices, and you're berating _me_ for not rebounding into good cheer after being killed before I'm even forty and leaving my son an orphan? At least you got chosen! I know what McGonagall told you about my soul: it's tainted by the curse of lycanthropy. I can't escape being judged and punished for it even after death."

Severus felt his temper rising, but he bit it back. Lupin had information he needed, and if they got into a pissing contest, it might never end. "I was killed, too, you know - and I wasn't chosen. I just happened to mistake Death for a Death Eater, and I killed him, so I had to assume the office," he said. "And technically I believe your _wife_ left your son an orphan, since she was too busy chasing after you to think about her own child. And what were you doing, Lupin? Running away from her, hoping to get yourself killed just so you could escape her clutches?"

Lupin's face grew flushed, the first sign of a crack in the mask, and his gaze turned into a glare. "She wasn't chasing after me. She was doing her job as an Auror. You of all people ought to understand the call of duty over personal interests." He lifted his chin proudly. "Nor was I running away. I didn't _want_ to die, and if your former associates weren't so liberal in their use of illegal curses, I wouldn't be here now."

"Did you expect them to throw Bat Bogie Hexes and Cheering Charms?" Severus asked, snorting in derision. "It was a war, and people die, which you very well know! Tonks knew it, too, and the chance of you both surviving was pretty slim. If you were that concerned about your son being orphaned, one of you should have stayed behind."

Lupin fixed him with a long, level gaze, appearing on the verge of replying, but then Lupin shook his head and pressed his lips together. "You've got a client waiting," he said at last. "You do your job, and I'll do mine."

"Fine!" Severus gave a hmphf, annoyed that Lupin apparently didn't want to _think_ , just grumble about his situation. Who would have thought that he would be handling things better than Lupin was?

Fortunately Mortis hadn't paid attention to their argument, galloping away from the battle field and then turning into a carpet once again. Severus kept silent, knowing that Lupin wasn't in any mood to listen to reason. As they flew toward the next appointment, Severus couldn't help but wonder why he even wanted to try.


	7. Chapter 7

After Severus had caught up with the backlog of souls and could afford to take a respite, they returned to the mansion, much to Remus' relief. He found the quarters that had been assigned to him and holed himself up to sort through everything that had happened. He'd spent his entire life trying to be amiable and unobtrusive, and look where it got him. He was still being penalized for something that hadn't even been his fault; he hadn't chosen to become a werewolf the same way Severus had chosen to become a Death Eater. There ought to be some compensation for that, but apparently there wasn't, which didn't seem at all fair.

Now he was stuck in an afterlife where his two options were either being a paper-pusher or the assistant of someone who didn't like him, didn't understand him, and didn't give a damn about him. As if he needed to be lectured on the dangers of war! He'd lived through the first one; he knew the risks. It was easy for Severus to judge him and Tonks for not choosing to stay behind, but as short-handed as the Order was, neither of them could have sat on the sidelines in good conscience. They had made a choice, and now Teddy was paying for it - and so was Remus.

In hindsight, he would have chosen differently. He would have stayed behind, not just because he wasn't ready to die himself, but mainly because he resented having to give up the one good thing that had ever happened to him: fatherhood. Teddy wouldn't know him; he'd be nothing but an image in old photographs. That was the truth of the matter: he didn't care nearly as much about losing Tonks as he did about losing his son and the opportunity to raise him.

He didn't expect Severus to understand that, much less care. He didn't expect Severus to understand or care about anything related to him; he had never considered Severus an enemy, but they had certainly never been friends. Severus' callous disregard showed there was little hope of that changing, but for once, Remus didn't care about ingratiating himself. Working for Severus was better than being stuck behind a desk, but he wasn't obligated to fraternize with Severus. He wasn't obligated to do anything other than answer questions and obey instructions, and he could do that easily enough.

Thus he did his job, learning the routine and answering questions with alacrity so Severus would have no cause for complaint, but he didn't rise to the bait of any more arguments, and he didn't offer any overtures of conversation or companionship. Remus had spent his life learning how to deal with living under adverse conditions, and the skill served him well in the afterlife as well. At least serving as Death's personal assistant wasn't boring. Remus accompanied Death on every collection, which took him to parts of the world he'd never dreamed of seeing before; it wasn't the same as going on holiday, but at least he got to see new places, albeit briefly, and the job itself suited his orderly nature.

When the package arrived from Purgatory Headquarters, he was surprised and momentarily hopeful that his case had been reviewed, but when he opened the package, he found not paperwork but a compact hand-held device with a sleek wine-colored casing. He examined it and found 'Pomegranate v 1.0' inscribed on the bottom, and it flared to life when he poked cautiously at the dark screen, apparently activated by the touch.

He didn't understand what it was for until he noticed the letter inside the box, informing him that Death taking on a personal assistant had given the Purgatory IT department something to do other than repair equipment. It seemed they had taken it upon themselves to design a tool for _him_ , and when he read the accompanying manual, he discovered that the little device could perform a variety of functions. He could sync it with Death's watch; it had a built-in GPS system with the default setting attuned to Mortis; it could be used to contact other Incarnations; it had a planner that included a calendar, an appointment scheduler, and an alarm; and he could even stream live video from the Purgatory television. Not just Death's channel, either. He could peek at what they were saying about the other Incarnations if he wanted to. All that, _and_ it played music, although all the songs seemed to be related to death. He was quite amused when the first song that came up in the shuffled play-list was "Don't Fear the Reaper".

He was so pleased with his new device that he broke his self-imposed rule of not seeking out Severus' company; he wanted to show it off and share the discovery with _somebody_ , and since the device would ultimately benefit Severus, he decided Severus was the logical choice. Thus he tested the capabilities of the Pomegranate by using the GPS system to home in on Severus' location within the mansion, letting the device lead him straight to Severus.

As it happened, Severus was in the library of the huge mansion, sitting on a plush leather sofa with the bag he kept souls in and the soul stones that read good and evil before him on a low table. He was staring at them intently, so absorbed in thought that he didn't seem to hear Remus enter.

"Is something wrong?" Remus asked as he approached and stopped in front of the table.

Severus started, then looked up in chagrin, before shaking his head. "No," he replied, seeming to come out whatever had been consuming his attention. "What is it? Time for another collection already?"

"No, I don't think so," Remus replied. Whatever Severus had been thinking about was obviously something he wasn't inclined to share, and Remus wasn't going to ask lest Severus snap at him to mind his own business, and so Remus held out the Pomegranate to show Severus as he'd intended. "The Administrative Headquarters sent me this. It's an amazing little device." He touched the screen, and "Don't Fear the Reaper" began playing again, followed by "Death Is Not the End", by Bob Dylan. "See? It can play music, it can synchronize with your watch, and it can even track Mortis."

Severus lifted a brow, looking at the Pomegranate in surprise, before giving a snort of amusement at the music. "All that?" he asked, then shook his head. "I must admit, I never gave a great deal of thought to the afterlife before, but when I did, I never thought it would be like..." he gestured at the PDA, then at the things on the table, and finally at the room they occupied... " _this_."

"Neither did I," Remus admitted as he placed the Pomegranate on the table and pushed it closer to Severus in a silent offer in case Severus was interested in examining it. "I let religion slip away when I started attending Hogwarts, but my faith was shaky at best even before that. I couldn't see a divine plan in being turned into a werewolf, no matter what my mother said." He shrugged and smiled wryly. "If I'd had to take a guess, I never would have imagined the afterlife being so high tech."

"Especially given that at least three of the Incarnations are Wizards or Witches," Severus replied. He picked up the Pomegranate, turning it over in his hand. He rolled his eyes when "Spirit in the Sky" began to play next. "At least whomever is in charge seems to have a sense of humor, as twisted as it might be." He tilted his head at Remus, then lowered his gaze, his voice becoming husky. "I was never very religious either. I couldn't reconcile myself to a beneficent deity who would allow fathers to beat their wives and children until they were bloody and screaming for mercy that never came."

Remus slid his hands into the pockets of his cardigan and regarded Severus solemnly as he listened, surprised by the revelation. He wasn't surprised to learn Severus' childhood had been difficult, to say the least; something had shaped Severus into the bitter, angry individual he'd been since Remus had known him, and Remus was smart enough to have realized even as an adolescent that the damage hadn't begun at Hogwarts with Sirius and James, but rather stemmed from far older and deeper roots. He _was_ surprised that Severus was willing to make such an admission to _him_ , but perhaps Severus thought he already knew thanks to the handbook in his head. Either way, he recognized the disclosure as something new and different in their dynamic.

"I'm still not sure there's a grand plan," Remus said at last. "But at least we know there's some organization in place. Whether that's comforting or not is another matter entirely, I suppose."

Severus gave a mirthless chuckle at that. "Organization or hidebound bureaucracy?" he asked, looking up at Remus again. "There are elements of this place that remind me of the Ministry at its worst. Literal interpretation of the 'rules', whatever those rules might be. Otherwise you'd have gone to Heaven."

"The system doesn't seem to take intention or circumstances into consideration," Remus agreed. "But you've circumventing the rules already, so perhaps there's room for change."

Raising a hand to his forehead, Severus rubbed it. "You realize the irony of this situation, of course," he said. "I was a very judgmental man, and now it's my job to render judgment upon people's _souls_." His expression was pensive. "I could have sent you to Hell, you know. I had that power. Or to Heaven, for that matter. I didn't know it at the time, or I probably would have done it. But..."

Severus rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth across the plush carpet like a caged tiger. Then he whirled and looked at Remus intently. "What if I get it wrong?" he ground out. Obviously this was what had been weighing on his mind when Remus found him. "How many times has Death gotten it wrong in the past, condemning people to Hell or even to this tedious place just because of those damned stones?" He pointed an accusing finger at the soul stones. "The content of someone's character is obviously far more than some arbitrary measuring device can register! Why were you judged on your lycanthropy, when you didn't seek it out? Greyback, now there is a werewolf who deserves Hell! I _know_ that, because I knew him. But all the souls we are collecting now, what about them? I don't know them! I'm supposed, in a matter of moments, render a judgment to consign them to an eternity without even knowing who they really were!"

Remus was surprised anew and impressed by Severus' questions, and he felt the first bloom of respect. He had - rather uncharitably - assumed Severus would wield his new-found power with petty, vindictive glee, but instead, Severus seemed to recognize the magnitude of his responsibility. Moreover, it seemed he wanted to do the job well and fairly, which Remus never would have guessed after the way he had behaved in the past.

"Technically, any decision you make about a soul is right. You're Death, and by virtue of your office, you can't be wrong per se, but that doesn't mean the decision is necessarily fair or just," he said, inclining his head to acknowledge Severus' point. He agreed with Severus, but the handbook in his head could be rather pedantic at times. "I think the system is flawed, to be honest. The rules seemed designed to simplify a complex matter. It's easier to get on with the business of sorting when you have a checklist. Had lustful thoughts? Check on the bad side. Helped a little old lady across the street? Check on the good side. And so on."

He went to pick up his Pomegranate and turned off the music, and then he gazed at the stones for a moment, marveling at how powerful they were and yet how limited as well. As he straightened, he noticed the screen was lit up on his Pomegranate, and an application button was flashing. When he touched it, a database filled the screen; he stared at it, trying to make sense of it, and when he figured out what it was, he couldn't help but smile.

"Well, well," he said softly. "It looks like this little toy may be even more helpful than I thought."

Severus stopped his pacing, frowning at Remus, but it was an expression of puzzlement, not anger. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Moving closer to Severus, Remus held out the device to show him the database. "Look at this," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. "This seems to be a searchable database of every living soul. See? It has a chronology of their lives, and you can review each one under both the 'sin' and 'virtue' category to see what they actually did to earn the judgment of the stones."

"Really?" Severus looked at the screen thoughtfully, then nodded. "That could indeed be a help," he said slowly. "At least it would give me some kind of basis from which to form an opinion." 

"It's more to go on than just a couple of rocks," Remus said, mirroring his nod. "Although with this thing available, I'm not sure what you need me for," he added, belatedly realizing it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say. No doubt Severus would be all too glad to send him back to Headquarters if he was no longer useful.

Severus looked at him for several long moments, his expression unreadable. "Are you saying that you no longer want this job?" he asked.

"No, not at all," Remus replied, fiddling with the device to cover his awkwardness. "It's far more interesting than being stuck at a desk and shuffling paperwork for eternity. I certainly never got to travel this much when I was alive. I suppose I..." He paused, uncomfortable with the thought of making any confessions, however slight, to Severus and giving him potential ammunition to use. Perhaps Severus had begun to change, but Remus had always been cautious with him, and old habits died hard, so to speak. "I thought I might be replaced by a machine," he said at last. "I know you don't like me, and I imagine having to rely on me, of all people, for information is only slightly more tolerable to you than having to rely on James or Sirius."

Again Severus was silent, and then he shrugged slightly. "You are not Potter or Black," he said finally. "I had my doubts about you being assigned to me, because I thought that you would question my every decision. But you have been... tolerable. And I have no desire to rely on these infernal machines by themselves." A faint flush crept into his cheeks, and he straightened his spine as though he thought he appeared weak. "It is your choice to stay or go, however. But if you are willing to consign our past to the other life we've both left behind, so will I."

Startled by the offer, Remus blinked at Severus in silence before managing a response. "I'd like to stay," he said. "I'm good at researching and organizing things. It's how I got through school. I've never been as naturally talented or intelligent as James, Sirius, or you, but I made up for it with studying skills." He glanced down at the Pomegranate again, not quite able to look at Severus as he added, "You don't need me to question you. You're questioning yourself, and I think that's a good thing. I respect you for taking your responsibilities seriously and wanting to do the best and fairest job you can."

Severus seemed to be as taken aback by Remus' words as Remus had been by his, for his eyes widened. "I've always taken my responsibilities seriously," he said, then shrugged. "I didn't ask for this job, any more than I did the role of Albus' spy, but it is what has fallen to me, and this time more than my life is at stake - it's my soul. At least this time, I don't have as many annoyances, and I'm mercifully free of Potters."

Remus smiled at that and tucked the Pomegranate into his pocket. "You've taken your responsibilities seriously, but you haven't always been fair," he pointed out. "Anyway, whether your motives are purely altruistic or not, I think you're doing well so far."

Crossing his arms over his chest, Severus frowned. "I thought we were consigning the past to the past?"

Holding up both hands in a gesture of surrender, Remus shook his head. "I'm sorry. I wasn't taking a shot at you. Not deliberately, at least. You can't expect me to forget the habits of a lifetime in five minutes, especially when you just made a disparaging remark about Potters yourself. That isn't leaving the past behind, either, and I happen to have liked the Potters - all of them."

"Hmpfh - but I didn't make a disparaging remark about _you_ ," Severus replied in a tone that made it obvious he thought he was quite put upon. Before he could say more, however, there was a knock at the door, and Jeeves stepped into the library.

"Pardon me, Death, but Fate is here to see you," he said in his bland voice.

Severus' brow lifted. "Oh? I suppose we'll have to see her, then, won't we?" he asked dryly.

Jeeves nodded, apparently thinking the same thing, for he opened the door wider and Minerva stepped inside, stopping as she caught sight of Remus. She looked back and forth between Remus and Severus, then shook her head. "I'd heard that Death had a new assistant, but I must admit I'm surprised to find out it's you, Remus," she said. Crossing to him, she smiled somewhat wistfully as she laid a hand on his arm. "I'd hoped that your good would outweigh your unfortunate curse when everything was totted up." Her gaze moved to Severus. "I suppose you didn't use your discretion to send him on?"

Severus glared mildly at her. "Perhaps if I'd known I had discretion in the first place," he sniffed. "As I recall, I wasn't handed an instruction manual. To paraphrase someone else in this room, you can hardly expect me to be able to be all rainbows and puppies when I'd only just become Death!"

Remus smiled politely and resisted the urge to move his arm out of McGonagall's grasp. He knew what had happened when he'd died; it was in Severus' "file" in his mental handbook, and as a result, he wasn't best pleased with her for cutting his thread and not telling Severus about the "discretion" option, and he certainly didn't want her sympathy now that he was dead and working as a personal assistant. He also wasn't certain that Severus' comment wasn't aimed as much at _him_ as it was McGonagall, thus he felt his best option was to remain silent for the time being and not risk rocking the boat.

Seeming to sense his distance, Minerva sighed and dropped her hand. "There were things going on that required my attention," she said wearily. "I gave you as much help as I could." She looked at Remus, seeming to include him in that statement. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more, but perhaps you'll understand my distraction at the time when I explain why I've come."

Severus didn't seem terribly mollified by her apology. "Why have you come? Complaints about my job performance?"

"No, not really - although I did have to do a bit of reweaving to cover the fate of the man you talked out of suicide," Minerva said primly. "All the threads in the Tapestry of Fate are intertwined, and it is no small or easy job to keep the Tapestry from warping when something unexpected happens." She shrugged then. "But that is my job, and I've done it for decades. Which is precisely why I've been able to keep track of certain peculiarities over the last fifty years."

"What sort of peculiarities?" Remus asked, his curiosity driving him to enter the conversation despite his resolution to stand still and be quiet like a good little assistant. But Severus didn't seem to mind, simply continuing to look at Minerva as though expecting her to answer Remus' question.

"It started just after I left Hogwarts - and, coincidentally, just after I took the office of Fate," Minerva replied. "Just as most people go to their afterlife without your direct intervention, Severus, so does the Tapestry weave itself. I only have to step in when something tangles, which makes the fabric warp. I noticed it at once, since I was still new enough that I was paying close attention to all the threads of people I knew. That's how I saw that Tom Riddle's thread had begun to fray."

"Fray?" Severus frowned, speculation in his dark eyes.

"Yes - and it was exactly as you both no doubt suspect." Minerva sighed. "Creating a Horcrux causes a piece of the soul to break off, which is visible in the thread as a thinning. I didn't know what it meant at the time, since at that point, I'd no idea what a Horcrux was or that such a thing could even be made. What I saw was that the Tapestry near Tom Riddle had begun to buckle, rather than lying smooth. I did what I could to smooth it out, and I kept an eye on it as I tried to determine what could cause such a thing to happen."

"Holes began to form because of the continued fracturing of his soul combined with each murder creating an unsanctioned death," Remus blurted out on the heels of a flash from the handbook. "His victims weren't meant to die at that particular place and time, which led to other changes, such as children not being born or significant deeds not being performed."

Minerva looked startled at Remus' knowledge, but she nodded. "Exactly. I was able to warn Albus that something was afoot, although I couldn't tell him how I knew." She shook her head. "I could tell that things seemed centered not only on Tom, but on Hogwarts itself, so I returned as a professor in order to keep an eye on things. Unfortunately, however, being an Incarnation makes us neither omniscient nor infallible, and the threads tell me nothing of a person's allegiances or motives. I was caught completely unprepared for the deaths of Lily and James Potter. Like everyone, I believed them safe at Godric's Hollow. The mess that made of the Tapestry took a long time for me to put right, and even the best I could do still left plenty of snarls and holes. And I knew that Voldemort wasn't destroyed by that spell rebounding; his thread was still there, practically invisible, but present. And because of the Horcruxes, even I couldn't cut it!"

"Why didn't you tell someone, then?" Remus asked, raising one eyebrow. He managed to keep the accusatory note out of his voice, but barely.

"I did. Why do you think that Albus was so adamant about protecting Harry?" Minerva asked quietly. "I still couldn't tell Albus who I was, but I gave him all the information I could, or at least lead him toward drawing his own conclusions. Remember, mortals do have free will, and there is a limit to what even I can do to influence any particular situation. I tried to enlist the aid of Severus' predecessor, in fact, but he wasn't a Wizard and didn't care about what would happen to the Wizarding World. But Albus knew that it wasn't over, and as I said, I cannot predict the future; I can only react to what happens after the fact."

"The history lesson is fascinating," Severus interjected dryly, breaking his silence. "But that doesn't explain why you're here now." Then he frowned sharply, his brows drawing down in suspicion. "Or does it?"

"It does," Minerva replied, her voice weary. "I had to be sure, because it's so faint now that it's barely visible, but... Voldemort's thread is still there in the Tapestry, and I still can't cut it. The destruction of the Horcruxes didn't destroy the pieces of his soul; Wizards have that completely wrong. The soul is immortal, and Voldemort's still exists. It may be fragmented now, but given enough time, the pieces will be drawn irrevocably back to one another. And when that happens...."

"He'll be able to come back," Remus said, knowing he was stating the obvious even as he said it, but the mere thought was too horrifying to keep in the silence of his own head. He no longer had a stake in the mortal world for himself, but he wanted a safe world for his son, one that was free of Voldemort's evil once and for all.

Severus looked as pale as... well, Death, which wasn't a surprise, really, considering what he'd done to help insure Voldemort's defeat. A defeat which hadn't happened. Severus' lips were compressed into a thin line, and his hands were white-knuckled fists at his sides. "That's what you want me to do: gather up his soul." 

It wasn't a question, but Minerva nodded anyway. "You are Death. You have dominion over souls. I didn't even know for certain that the soul was still out there and fragmented until Voldemort was supposed to have died and he didn't. Again. That's why I couldn't help you more, Severus - or you, Remus." Her voice was apologetic. "I had to try to find the pieces of his soul, which hasn't been easy since that's not my Office. And you needed time to learn your abilities Severus, without having this hanging over you immediately. I've managed to locate three, but I can't collect them; only you can do that. But if we can get all the pieces back, I'll be able to finally cut his Thread once and for all - and I've no doubt you won't have to do any measuring to determine where he's going when I do!"

Severus' eyes glittered dangerously. "I have no ties to the mortal world any longer, but this is unconscionable," he bit out. "Of all the people in the world, he will not be allowed to cheat Death!"

"Again," Remus muttered as he pulled the Pomegranate out of his pocket and touched the screen, bringing up a notepad application. "Where did you find the three pieces?" he asked, ready to take notes. "Perhaps I can program the GPS system to home in on them."

Minerva looked at the Pomegranate and gave a tart tut. "When I first became an Incarnation, we didn't have all the helpful gadgetry," she sniffed, but there was a glimmer of amusement in her blue eyes, swiftly replaced by seriousness once more. "They are at Hogwarts and the vicinity. One in the castle itself, one in Hogsmeade. I can't pinpoint it exactly." She gave them both an apologetic look. "And one in or near the Shrieking Shack."

"It figures," Severus said, his tone sardonic. He looked at Remus. "Is your hurdy-gurdy saying anything useful?"

Remus brought up the GPS application and rapidly typed in the information he had; after a couple of seconds, a map appeared on the screen with three tiny, pulsing red dots scattered around, and when he touched one of the dots, the map zoomed in until he could see the specific location of the dot was the Shrieking Shack. The dot had grown larger as well, and when he touched it again, the map zoomed in even closer until he could identify the specific room.

"One of the fragments is in the bedroom upstairs in the Shrieking Shack," he said, glancing up at Severus, who nodded.

"Let's go, then." Severus looked at Minerva, his expression grim. "You and I are going to have a talk at some point, you know. And I will have answers about all this, and how I conveniently came to be in this position."

Minerva lifted her chin. "Would you rather be in Hell?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. "We don't have time for this now. Collect all the pieces of Voldemort's soul, and then we'll talk."

"Fine." Severus glared for a moment, then tilted his chin up in a haughty expression, apparently for Minerva's benefit. Then he turned and grasped Remus' arm, steering him toward the door. "I assume you can see yourself out, Fate. For now, Death has to keep his appointed rounds."

Remus was surprised at finding himself manhandled out the door, but he was even more surprised by the implications of what Severus had said, enough that he didn't protest being herded. "You suspect you were deliberately placed in this position," he said in what wasn't quite a question.

It made sense, after all. If McGonagall suspected Death would need to collect the soul fragments, then who better to appoint to the task than someone she knew had a vested interest in seeing Voldemort defeated once and for all rather than leave it to an impartial outsider who didn't understand the threat Voldemort posed to wizards and Muggles alike? No doubt she thought Severus was the best choice because he was clever, ruthless, and dogged once he set his mind on something.

Severus didn't slow down, pulling Remus toward the front door of the Mansion and shouting for Mortis. Finally he released Remus and turned to look at him. "I'm almost certain of it," he said angrily. "Minerva admitting that my predecessor was unsympathetic to the Wizarding World convinced me; I was set up. Perhaps I _was_ supposed to die in the Shack, but perhaps I wasn't, and I doubt she will be so forthright as to admit whether I had more time due to me. She knows that I, of all people, will not be able to rest until Voldemort is destroyed." His lips twisted. "Apparently the mistakes of my youth follow me even into the Afterlife, no matter what I do to atone. I'm going to do it. I can't _not_ , which I know she was counting on. Minerva learned manipulation from a master of the craft, after all."

It wasn't difficult to discern whom Severus was referring to: Albus Dumbledore. As much as Remus had respected Dumbledore, he'd become all too aware of how willing Dumbledore was to use people to attain his ends, a fact that had been driven home painfully when Remus had learned the Defence position had been cursed. Dumbledore had given him the first and only job of his adult life, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep it - and he'd got off mildly in comparison to Harry and Severus. On Dumbledore's chessboard, Remus had been nothing more than a pawn; Harry and Severus had been more powerful, dangerous, and important pieces, but they too had been expendable. Dumbledore had been the sort of innovative, powerful leader they had needed, but sometimes his eyes had been so focused on the big picture that he lost sight of the people whose lives he affected with his machinations.

"I don't think this has anything to do with atonement or mistakes," Remus said quietly. "I think if she picked you, it was because she knew you were the best choice; you're motivated to do it, and you're ruthless - and I mean that as a compliment in this context, not as an insult." He held up his hands again to stave off any protests. "I'm not defending her, believe me. I'm not best pleased with her myself right now, and I don't give a damn about House loyalty. I just think there's more to it than making you suffer. Maybe she even thought you deserved the satisfaction of doing it. There's a certain irony to you picking up the pieces of his soul and putting them together after he tore so many lives apart, including yours. You'll get to hold his soul in your hands and send it straight to Hell." He raised one eyebrow questioningly. "I can't believe you wouldn't enjoy that. I know _I_ would, and I wasn't affected as directly by him as you were."

Severus appeared thoughtful for a moment, and then he nodded slowly. "You're right, of course; I would enjoy it a great deal. But that doesn't necessarily mean that I appreciate her interference." Mortis arrived as a flying carpet again, and Severus gestured for Remus to take a seat. "We'll collect these, and then we'll have to figure out where the other five pieces have gone. Hopefully it won't be too difficult to track them."

Remus climbed up on Mortis and sat down behind Severus, checking his Pomegranate again. "It might be a little harder, since I won't have as much information to go on," he admitted. "But I hope the Pom will give us a starting point, at least."

"I suppose that will have to do," Severus replied. Mortis rose into the air, and then they were on their way, back to earth, once again on a mission to destroy Voldemort. Perhaps this third time might actually be the charm.


	8. Chapter 8

It was night in Scotland when they descended from the clouds, and as they passed Hogsmeade and tracked low over the grounds of Hogwarts, Severus could see that there still plenty of indications of the battle which had taken place there. He knew it had only been a few days, but somehow it felt like much longer, and he'd half expected Hogwarts to look as it always had. He frowned, wondering why it disturbed him that it didn't; after all, it wasn't as though he were connected to the place any longer. They bypassed the castle itself, and then Mortis turned as though he had intended to give them an aerial panorama and headed back toward the Shrieking Shack, settling down in front of it. 

"I suppose this is it," he murmured, stepping down from the carpet and glancing at Lupin. "I'm just as glad that I don't have to go through that damned tunnel this time."

"I'd be just as glad if I never had to come back at all," Lupin muttered as he fiddled with his device, his fingers dancing on the touch-sensitive screen. "Nothing good ever happened here."

"Tell me about it," Severus replied dryly. He marched up to the door of the Shack, which had been specifically designed to _not_ open from the outside, and opened it, stepping through and into the Shack. He couldn't help stopping just inside, staring at the dark stain on the floor where he had nearly died, feeling odd at the reminder of what had happened.

Lupin drifted over, not so much walking as floating now that he was a ghost, and regarded the stain as well. "X marks the spot, eh?" He glanced sidelong at Severus and shook his head. "Like I said, nothing good ever happened here." He pointed to the stairs, the splintered wood of the dilapidated steps visible through his translucent hand. "The soul fragment is up there. It hasn't moved from the bedroom."

"Let's get it and leave," Severus said. 

Privately he agreed with Lupin about the negativity; it seemed to hover around the place like a noxious, oily miasma. He glanced at Lupin as he passed by, thinking briefly about how much Lupin had suffered here; it must have left an imprint, not only on Lupin but on the Shack as well. Heading up the stairs, he turned for the bedroom, glancing around it with scant favor. He had bad memories of this room, too; here he had confronted Lupin and Black four years ago, and he had been embarrassingly taken out by Granger, Potter, and Weasley. He'd been so certain at that point that Black had been the traitor and that Lupin had been helping him. Of course, he'd been proven wrong, but then he'd known nothing about the fact that Black had been an Animagus.

He waited for Lupin as he glanced around, trying to figure out where the soul fragment was hiding. Unfortunately, if he was supposed to have a sense about such things, he'd not yet developed it. "Where?" he asked quietly. 

Remus drifted in and made a slow sweep of the room, his attention focused on the PDA, until finally, he stopped in front of a battered wardrobe that had one door off its hinges. "There," he said, gesturing to the wardrobe. "It's hiding in there."

Severus approached the wardrobe warily, not certain what to expect. It was only a piece of a soul, but this was the soul of one of the most evil men who had ever lived, and given the magic used to create the fragment, Severus wasn't sure he could treat it like a normal soul. He looked past the broken door, and he could see what looked like a dust ball in the corner. Only dust balls didn't shimmer.

"I see it," he said. 

He pulled out his soul bag, then cautiously reached toward the fragment. Rather than shrinking away from him as he half expected, the thing actually flowed toward him, enveloping his gloved hand. A gasp escaped Severus as he felt the fragment trying to press _into_ him. It couldn't get past the glove, but the thing was like a leech, clinging to Severus' glove. He felt it, heavy and cold as ice, and somehow he knew that it was trying to get into him, no doubt in an attempt to possess him. But he was Death, and he was shielded with his magical clothing, so it couldn't succeed.

He moved his hand quickly toward the bag, having to scrape the soul off his fingers and into the bag. He hurried to cinch it closed, then looked at Lupin. "This isn't good. Not good at all."

Remus had drifted over and watched Severus' struggle with the soul fragment, his eyes widening with alarm. "No, not at all. You can't keep those things in the bag with normal souls. There's no telling what will happen."

"Definitely," Severus said, frowning at the bag. He was loathe to put it back in his pocket, lest the damned thing try to crawl out. "What in the hell am I supposed to do with all the pieces while we're collecting them, then?"

"You need a soul bottle," Remus said promptly, in the odd, blurty way Severus had come to recognize as a "flash" response from the handbook. He tapped the screen of his device again and showed Severus an image of an oddly shaped bottle. "One of these. It will keep the soul shards safe with no possibility of them slipping free once they're inside, and they'll be contained away from the souls of your normal clients. Speaking of..." He frowned slightly as he checked the schedule. "You have twenty minutes before the next collection. Gathering up Voldemort's soul fragments is important, but you can't afford to get behind with your normal collections."

"I know, but we need to take care of these pieces while we know where they are," Severus replied. He looked down at the Death Watch. "I can reset the timer, right? If I put it back to thirty minutes, that ought to give us enough time." 

He frowned, trying to remember the instructions Lupin had given him about how to do a reset. He knew that pulling out the center button stopped all time, but he wasn't certain which of the other two performed the operation he desired, since he'd not had to use it yet. He could just ask Lupin, of course, but he should be able to remember so simple a thing. What if Lupin left and he had to do this all on his own?

He was about to push the lower button when the bag in his hand moved, and it startled him so that his finger slipped and he pressed both buttons. Annoyed, he scowled at the Death Watch.

"You summoned me, Thanatos?" a dreamy, feminine voice asked from behind him, and he whirled, eyes widening in surprise as he saw Luna Lovegood standing there, looking at him serenely. She held a huge Hourglass in one hand, and he abruptly remembered that Lupin had said that pressing the two buttons was a code to summonChronos - the Incarnation of Time.

"You... You are Chronos?" he asked, unable to keep himself from boggling at her in disbelief.

"Of course, you know that!" Luna replied, shaking her head. She glanced toward Lupin, and her smile widened to one that held affection. "Hello, Hermes! What new songs have you downloaded to the Pom?"

" _Hermes_?" Lupin stopped just short of boggling at her, and the sight of his effort to keep his calm reserve intact might have been comical under different circumstances. "Why in Merlin's name did you call me that?"

"Because that's your title, of course!" Luna smiled, but then the expression slowly faded, becoming one of loss. "Oh, no! Already?" She glanced around at the Shack, obviously recognizing it. "You've only just died, haven't you? That means you - both of you - won't be here after this, right?"

Severus frowned, wondering what in the world Lovegood was bleating about. It was inconceivable that she was an Incarnation, but even accepting that, it was obvious she was just as bizarre as she'd always been.

"What in the devil are you talking about?" he demanded, glaring at her, hoping that if he could be more like his old demeanor, she might focus long enough to form a coherent sentence. But just in case, he looked at Lupin. "Do you have any idea what she means?"

"None whatsoever," Lupin said, sounding as confused as Severus felt. Lupin turned his attention to Lovegood, regarding her steadily for a moment, and then it seemed as if understanding dawned. "You're right," he said patiently. "We've only just died. Or _I_ have, anyway," he added, a note of displeasure underlying his voice. "Since you're the Incarnation of Time, you must be aware of our future selves. Is that what you were talking about?"

Lovegood hesitated before responding. "I travel backward from the rest of the world," she said softly. "For you, all our interactions are in your future, but for me... they are my past. I can't say too much, but yes, I know both of you quite well. If this is the year of the War, then I have about sixteen more years asChronos, before the Hourglass will pass on to the next holder."

"Backward?" Severus considered that for a moment. It made sense for Time to move against the flow, so to speak; since Time had already lived through the events of the rest of the world, she would be uniquely equipped to know if anything was getting out of kilter. "How are you interacting with us now, then?"

"The Hourglass does it," Lovegood replied, holding up the gleaming, sand-filled container. It looked almost like diamond dust, the particles sparkling with all the colors of the rainbow. "I have it upside down right now, not that you can really tell, but _I_ can. When I do that, I travel in the same direction as everyone else, so that I can interact with them."

"I suppose we shouldn't ask any questions about ourselves," Lupin murmured, but it was obvious by the look on his face that he _wanted_ to.

"That would probably be for the best," she replied, her expression wistful. Then she looked at Severus again. "So, then, what can I do for you,Thanatos?"

For some reason, Severus felt embarrassed at having to admit the truth. "Actually, I didn't mean to summon you. I was trying to reset the timer for my next collection, but the fragment of Voldemort's soul we just captured moved in the bag, and I... was distracted." He tipped his chin up. "I am sorry you were inconvenienced."

"It's all right," Lovegood said. "At least this way I get to say goodbye, right? So... farewell, Thanatos. I hope that you find my actions in your future are suitable repayment for the assistance you have given me. I have always enjoyed your dry wit, even if you never did believe inSnorkacks."

Severus stared at her in surprise, wondering what assistance he could possibly have given her, but he thought it better not to ask. Nor did he have the opportunity, for she moved to Lupin, and, craning up, placed a kiss to his ghostly cheek which actually seemed to land.

"Take care of him, Hermes... er, Professor Lupin," she said, sniffling a bit. "I know you will, because you always did. I'm just glad it all worked out for you both."

"Er..." Lupin gazed at her in startled surprise and glanced hesitantly at Severus as if to see how he was reacting to what she had said. "It's my job," he said awkwardly. "I'm Death's personal assistant, not Hermes. I'm not sure how that constitutes things working out for both of us."

Severus was staring at Lovegood as though she had suddenly sprouted two additional heads, both of which were uttering complete nonsense. He wasn't sure what to think or why she seemed sure that Lupin would take care of him. Lupin barely tolerated him!

"You aren't Hermes now, but you will be." Lovegood stepped back with a sigh. "Take care, you two. I'm going to miss you both very much. Just do me a favor, please? Next time you meet me, don't tell me about this meeting, or that it will be our last. I don't want to feel sad."

Lupin nodded, his expression growing somber. "I won't mention it," he said softly.

"Thank you." She gave Lupin a radiant smile, then turned the same expression on Severus for a moment. She rotated the Hourglass, and with that, she disappeared as suddenly as though she'dApparated, only there was no sound.

"What in the hell?" Severus asked rhetorically.

Lupin raked his fingers through his hair and stared at the spot where Lovegood had just been as if doing so would somehow make the conversation clearer. "All I got out of that is that she thinks I'm Hermes and that we're going to be working together for a while."

"No, she _knew_ you were Hermes," Severus replied slowly. "Whatever that means. I suppose we'll find out in due time. But apparently we manage not to drive each other mad, which is something." He drew in a breath, pulling himself back to the task at hand and away from the questionsLovegood's appearance brought to mind. A glance at the Death Watch showed that he did indeed now have thirty minutes to his next scheduled client, and he nodded in satisfaction; at least _that_ had gone right. "Shall we collect the fragment at the castle, then the one in Hogsmeade? We should have just enough time before the next appointment. After that... we'll have to find that soul bottle, because you're correct. I don't want these pieces anywhere near another soul. No one deserves that."

"Agreed." Lupin shook himself briskly and settled back into his usual professional demeanor, pushing his glasses up before tapping on thePom's screen again. "Fortunately, it won't be difficult to get a soul bottle. According to Pom, you can get one in Diagon Alley." He peered at Severus over the top of his glasses. "Assuming Death still has access to mortal money."

"I have no idea. Do I?" Severus asked, raising a brow at Lupin. "I can hardly go into Gringott's and withdraw funds from what little was in my vault! I didn't keep much around, either, and no doubt the Ministry has taken all my personal effects." He paused for a moment, looking at Lupin speculatively. "What about you? Any secrethoards lying about?"

"Tons," Lupin replied dryly, holding up one arm to show the patch on the sleeve of his cardigan. "I'm fabulously wealthy. This is just a fashion statement. At any rate," he continued matter-of-factly, "the answer is no. Death has no need for any mortal possessions, including money."

Giving a huff of annoyance, Severus frowned, trying to remember where he might have seen one of the bottles before. He'd recognized it as a metaphysical symbol, mystical because it had only a single surface for both its inside and outside... and then it hit him, and he smiled triumphantly. "Trelawney! She has one in her classroom. I remember seeing it when I had to help search for Black tha year. Come along, we have to go to the castle anyway. We'll just take it while we're there. It's not as though the woman doesn't have enough bizarre gewgaws cluttering up the place. She'll never miss it."

He turned and headed back down the stairs, intent on reaching Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

"But theft is a sin," Lupin reminded Severus as he drifted along behind, leaving a faint trail of ectoplasm in his wake. "You don't want to do anything that will tip your balance in the wrong direction. You should ask her if you can have it, and I'm sure she'll give it to you. Like you said, she's got plenty of otherknick-knacks to store her patchouli in."

"Is it murder if I scare her to death by my mere presence?" Severus snorted, thinking about how Trelawney would react to him showing up after he was supposedly dead and asking for her soul bottle. But Lupin did have a point, he conceded silently. Perhaps if Minerva were around, he could have her ask the old bat for it. He moved to take his place on Mortis again, then waited for Lupin to join him.

"Technically, no," Lupin replied as he floated up enough that he could step onto the flying carpet, his body regaining its solidity as soon as he was on board. "You aren't responsible for amortal's physiological or psychological reaction to your presence." He frowned sternly as he sat down and got settled for the short ride. "I don't think that means you can take advantage of a loophole, no matter how tempting it may be to scare the wits out ofTrelawney."

"It figures there would be something to take all the fun out of it," Severus grumbled, although there was no heat in it. They lifted off, and in mere moments, they were at Hogwarts.

Mortis sat them down in the inner courtyard rather than before the front gates, for which Severus was grateful. He'd prefer to go as unnoticed as possible, but he had no doubt that here, more than with his clients among the Muggles, he would be unable to fade into the background. 

"Where is the fragment?" he asked Lupin. "If it is deep in the castle, we could go to Trelawney's classroom first to get the bottle."

Lupin zoomed in on the map and studied it for a moment before looking up. "It's in the headmaster's office," he said.

Severus grimaced at that. He didn't much care for that office, not with the accusing way the portraits had looked at him during the time he'd been Headmaster, but the location was fortuitous. "Trelawney's classroom is on the way. We can get the bottle and then go directly to the office." He stepped down from Mortis, then made sure his hood was up and the skull mask in place. It could be far worse to be recognized as Severus Snape here than to be seen as Death.

Lupin stepped down and immediately turned incorporeal again, and he drifted along with Severus as they traveled the silent, empty corridors. The students were gone, and only the debris, scorch-marks, and curse damage served as mute testimony to the fierce battle that had been fought here. The staff, those who remained, seemed to have retired for the evening, and there was no one to impede their way.

It seemed as if they might reach their destination without encountering anyone at all, but then they rounded a corner - and there was Peeves, busily defacing a suit of armor. Being a ghost already, he saw Death clearly but appeared neither afraid nor intimidated, and he let out a loud, high-pitched cackle at the sight of Lupin.

"Loony, loony Lupin!" he screeched with glee, zooming closer to them. "You've come back to join us! We'll have to be careful that we don't turn loony too!"

"I'm just visiting, Peeves," Lupin replied mildly, and Peeves blew a loud raspberry and made a rude gesture.

"Poor old Lupin, we knew him well," Peeves sing-songed. "Heaven wouldn't have him, and neither would Hell!"

Lupin's eyes narrowed as he stared at Peeves, who was laughing maniacally again; as Severus watched, Lupin raised his hand, palm-up, and in the curl of his fingers, a glowing ball formed. He drew back his arm and hurled the ball of ectoplasm at Peeves, catching him full in the face with a resounding wet SPLAT. The mocking laughter stopped, replaced by furious epithets, but Lupin ignored them and continued onward, his expression calm - and ever so slightly smug - once more.

"I didn't know you could do that," Severus said, raising a brow as he caught up with Lupin. He was delighted that Lupin got the last word in on Peeves; Severus had never liked the Poltergiest, and had often had sharp words - one sided though they were - with the Bloody Baron about keeping the annoying Peeves in check. "Congratulations. You're the only one besides the Baron whom I've ever seen get the best of that horrible little wretch."

"The only good thing about being dead is that I have nothing else to lose," Lupin replied, shrugging slightly. "Thus I have no qualms about shutting up a noisy poltergeist by whatever means available."

"A very pragmatic view," Severus observed. They continued on, and he thought about the things he'd observed about Lupin in the last few days. He'd been prepared to loathe Lupin, but he'd found that a mixture of guilt for not having sent Lupin to Heaven - even if he'd not known he could do it - and the distance from the past offered by being so fully absorbed in his work was making him see Lupin in a different way. He was grateful for Lupin's assistance, and he'd not expected to be. He'd not worked in such close proximity with anyone in a long time, and rather than Lupin grating on his nerves constantly, he was surprised and pleased to find that they got on tolerably well. Lupin even seemed to approve of the way he was doing his job, and that eased a bit of Severus' uncertainty about whether he could bear the huge responsibilities that came with being Death. Not that he'd be willing to admit that; it was obvious that Lupin was acting out of a sense of duty for his job rather than out of any liking for Severus or any desire for Severus to do well in his position. In a way, that left Severus a tiny bit disappointed, the reasons for which he didn't care to examine too closely.

"Well, no one would ever accuse me of being a romantic or an idealist, even when I was alive," Lupin murmured, gazing around their familiar surroundings with something like wistfulness.

They started up the stairs as Severus thought about what Lupin had said. "Perhaps not," he replied quietly, almost to himself. "I imagine being a lycanthrope would tend to destroy that, just as my childhood wiped out such things for me." He bit down on a desire to point out that Lupin had, in fact, let himself be pushed around by his friends and even by his own wife; he'd promised not to delve into the past, and he'd keep that promise, no matter what. 

"It does, yes." Lupin fell silent for a few moments before adding, "I realize - too late, of course - that the biggest mistake of my life was trying too hard to gain an impossible acceptance. I thought if I was nice and unobtrusive enough, people would like me despite me being a werewolf, but the only thing that happened was that I passively existed throughout my life instead of living it. Now it's over, and I'm not any better off than I would have been if I hadn't tried so hard. Hindsight providing perfect vision and all that," he concluded wryly.

"Of course." Severus couldn't help but agree with that; he'd had more than a bit of vision correction in the last few days himself. But it seemed as though Lupin finally realized that there was simply no pleasing everyone, so one might as well do as one pleased. "You held back, while I, on the other hand, took out my frustration and anger with the situation I was forced into on all and sundry." He snorted. "It seems we can't even determine which method was the correct one, since we both ended up in balance at the end. The only way to settle it would be to determine if Albus' murder counted more or less on my soul than your lycanthropy did on yours."

Severus half-expected Lupin to consult the database and find out, but instead, Lupin paused, seeming lost in thought for a moment.

"I don't think it matters," Lupin said at last, his tone matter-of-fact. "I wouldn't have chosen to be bitten, and you wouldn't have chosen to beDumbledore's murderer, yet both things are counted against us, and here we are. Besides, I imagine all the other countless choices, big and small, we made along the way helped to shape our ultimate end. We could have chosen to break out of our pattern at any point, and we didn't."

"No, we didn't," Severus replied, then shrugged slightly. "Would you have believed it, though, even if you'd been told this was what would happen? I doubt I would have."

"No." Lupin turned his gaze downward, ostensibly focusing on the screen of his Pom as if keeping an eye on the whereabouts of the second soul fragment. "I lost the ability to have faith in anything or anyone at a young age. I wanted to believe. To trust. But experience showed it wasn't wise to trust anyone but myself."

"I learned a similar lesson." Severus' voice was low, and he spoke as much to himself as to Lupin. He knew that he'd alienated people even from the time he'd first come to Hogwarts, but like Lupin, he'd thought safer to keep people at a distance. People couldn't hurt him or let him down if he didn't rely on them or believe in them, and he had to admit his experiences at the hands of Lupin's friends had done nothing to make him believe he had been wrong. Not that he could say that; it would no doubt simply lead to an argument over Potter and Black and the whole travesty of Severus' years at school, which had only reinforced the lessons he'd learned from his father's fists. A bully was a bully no matter what age they were, and he believed that Potter and Black had been bullies of the worst sort.

Fortunately he didn't have to bite his tongue too hard or too long. They had reached Tower, and Sybil Trelawney came floating out of her quarters, wringing her hands. "I sense a disturbance close by," she murmured to herself. Then she turned and caught sight of Lupin, her eyes widening as she emitted a gasp of surprise. "Lupin! Have you returned from the spirit world with a message for me?"

"Er." Lupin glanced at Severus before drifting closer to her. "Not as such. More like a request," he said. "I need a soul bottle."

"A soul bottle?" She looked bewildered, and then she frowned. "There's a darkness here, I sense it! What is happening? Are you here to haunt me? To trap my soul?"

"No, no, not at all!" Lupin assured her hastily, holding up both hands in an appeasing gesture. "You're probably sensing Se - er - Death. I'm here with him as a translator, since you can't see or hear him. He needs a soul bottle for someoneelse's soul, not yours."

"Oh!" Trelawney's eyes went wide and round, and her face grew even more pale. She took an involuntary step back. "Death? But... why me? I don't have a soul bottle!"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Severus muttered from behind him. "It might be worth an extra little blot on my soul to just take the damned thing and spare us dealing with her!"

Lupin released a short, frustrated breath. "No," he muttered out of the side of his mouth before addressing Trelawney again. "I have it good authority that you have one around here somewhere. If you don't mind, I'll just have a look 'round and see if it turns up."

Trelawney looked doubtful, but at last she shrugged. "I suppose so," she said, placing a dramatic hand over her heart. "I am but a servant of the spirits, of course. Take what you wish."

Severus snorted and muttered under his breath.

Lupin floated slowly around the room, peering closely at the shelves, although Severus had no idea how he was going to find anything amid all the clutter. Meanwhile,Trelawney fluttered her scarves and moaned about her visions of the Grim coming true until Severus was ready to call off the search and go somewhere else to find the damned bottle - and then Lupin stopped and let a triumphant, "Ahhah ! I found it." He pointed to an oddly shaped bottle wedged between a copy of _101 Death Omens_ and a half-empty jar ofsandalwood incense cones. "That's it. That's what we need."

"That thing?" Trelawney stopped, looking perplexed. " _That_ is a... Well, yes, of course it is." She caught herself, smoothing her hands down her skirts. "I bought that at a bazaar in Cairo, you know. The glass is hand-blown from sands excavated from the foot of the Great Pyramid!" Heaving a loud sigh, she waved a hand. "Oh, go on, take it! My life ever calls for me to sacrifice for my gifts!"

"I suppose that shows that you get what you pay for," Severus said, moving to the bottle. He looked at Remus, raising a brow even though he knew Remus couldn't see it behind his mask. "Have the formalities been observed enough that I can take it now? We do have two more soul fragments to retrieve before our next client."

"Thank you, Sibyl," Lupin said, smiling at her, and then he floated out of the way. "Go ahead and take it," he said as he turned to face Severus and gestured to the bottle. "It's all right now."

"Thank you, Jiminy Cricket," Severus replied, but he let his amusement show in his voice. Reaching out, he picked up the bottle, not caring that toTrelawney it would appear to be floating. "So where is that soul fragment now? And how do we get rid of her? Should I show her my presence?"

"Is... is Death doing that?" Trelawney asked, one hand flying to her throat. Then she dropped her gaze. "Er... I have to go. Right now!" With that, she turned in a flurry of scarves and left with more energy than Severus had ever seen her expend.

"Well, that answers that question," he said.

Lupin watched her go with genuine amusement. "I was going to tell her she didn't have anything to worry about, but I suppose she didn't want to take any chances." He checked the Pom again and drifted toward the door. "The fragment is still in the headmaster's office. I don't think it's moved at all."

"Good." Severus turned and headed out the door, making his way to the well-remembered entrance to the Headmaster's office. The Gargoyle still stood guard, and Severus looked at it. "Move."

That, of course, wasn't the password he'd used for it when it had been his office, and he had no idea what the password might have been changed to, but apparently it didn't matter, for the Gargoyle moved aside with alacrity. "I suppose Death outranks even the Headmistress," he commented, stepping onto the spiral staircase.

"So it seems." Lupin floated up the stairs behind him, and once they were inside the office, Lupin began examining the room with the Pom held out in front of him, letting it guide him to the wayward fragment as it had done in the Shack.

Severus stood looking around the office, feeling a pang at the familiar objects and portraits. He'd never really felt this office was his, even when he had a right to it; it was Albus', just as it had been when Severus had been a First Year. Reaching out a hand, he ran it over the dark wood of the desk, wondering how he might have done things differently in his life, and if it would have made a difference in the long run. He noticed, too, that there wasn't a portrait of _him_ in the room, but he supposed it hadn't appeared because he wasn't really dead.

Pulling himself out of his reverie, he watched Lupin using his device to find the soul fragment. It was unbelievable that they'd ended up working together, and if Lovegood had been correct and not raving mad, they'd be working together for a long time to come. He never would have thought that _Lupin_ would end up as his companion, not given their history, but he found he'd grown accustomed to him, even thinking of Death's clients as "theirs" rather than "his". He'd never thought he wanted to work with anyone that closely, but he realized with a jolt that not only had he spent most of his life alone, that he'd also been lonely. It wasn't a comfortable thing to face, and he abruptly spoke up. "Have you found it yet?"

Lupin had stopped in front of one of the bookcases, frowning as he concentrated on the Pom's screen; he was concentrating so hard that he didn't seem to realize he was levitating up to the higher shelves until he looked up and found himself at eye level with the Sorting Hat, and then he did a double-take before glancing down and seeing how far off the floor he was.

"Huh." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he studied the distance between himself and the floor. "I have no idea how I did that. Anyway, the fragment is here. It's inside the Sorting Hat, I think." He widened his eyes slightly. "Can you imagine? The Hat is a magically sentient object, and if Voldemort had possessed it..."

"That would be horrible!" Severus said, feeling sick at the thought. The Hat touched every child who came to Hogwarts, for good or ill, but if it was possessed by some piece of Voldemort's evil, there was no telling what havoc could be wreaked. Personally he thought the whole Sorting business should be done away with, but the chances of that happening after a thousand years were slim indeed.

Severus reached into the pocket of his robe, removing his wand, and with a swift swish-and-flick, he levitated it down from the shelf. Placing the soul bottle on the Headmaster's desk, Severus put the hat down beside it. 

At that moment, the Hat decided to wake up. "Snape, Snape, Severus Snape! His life was short, and naught but a jape!"

"Shut up!" Severus snapped. Either the Hat had grown sarcastic, or Voldemort's soul fragment was influencing it, but either way, Severus didn't care for it in the slightest. Obviously it recognized him, even in the guise of Death, and he had no desire to hear it comment on his new duties.

"Afraid to hear the truth? I say, the Potions Master is quite gay!" the Hat taunted him. 

Lupin watched the exchange with his eyebrows climbing nearly to his hairline, but he didn't comment on the Hat's goading remarks. "I think now is a good time to test that soul bottle," he suggested instead.

"I agree," Severus ground out. He was glad for once for the skull illusion masking his features. At least that way, Lupin couldn't see his embarrassment at what the Hat was saying. He was an intensely private man, and he had no desire for his private preferences to be blurted to the world.

Reaching toward the Hat, he thrust his hand inside of it, searching for the soul fragment. It was a little different this time, since the bit had found something to bind with, rather than simply sitting in the bottom of a wardrobe. The Hat gasped, as though in pain, but Severus didn't relent. Somehow he could feel the difference between the piece of Voldemort in the Hat and the magic animating the Hat itself, and he homed in on it, clenching his fingers around it and pulling it out with a vicious tug.

The fragment dangled from his fingers, and before it could try to do what the previous one had done, Severus held his hand over the soul bottle and scraped it inside. There was an odd sort of sucking sound, and then the soul fragment spun around the channel of glass, emerging into the bottle and floating to the bottom.

On the desk, the Hat shuddered. "Tom Riddle's soul has gone away," it said quietly. "Thank you, Death, is what I say."

"As well you should," Severus replied, still miffed about what the Hat had said before, even if he knew it hadn't really been its fault. "Go back to sleep."

"Two down, one more to go," Lupin said as he drifted downward, seeming to have figured out the trick of moving vertically as well as horizontally. "Shall we?"

"Let me put this other bit with the first, while we have a moment," Severus said, not looking at Lupin. He pulled his Soul Bag from his pocket and emptied it into the bottle, giving an unconscious sigh of relief at knowing the two bits of Voldemort were now trapped within. He returned the bag to his pocket, then levitated the Hat back up to its spot on the shelf. 

"Now we can go," he said, looking toward the windows. "I'll summon Mortis to pick us up here, so that we don't have to go back down through the Castle."

"Just as well," Lupin replied amiably as he moved closer to the windows. "Peeves is probably lying in wait for me down there. It'll be good to thwart him."

Opening one of the casements, Severus called out for Mortis. "Yes, well, I doubt he'd bother you after that," he murmured, pretending interest in the Death Watch. He didn't want to see the amusement or contempt he thought he'd see in Lupin's eyes. He wasn't ashamed, but he didn't feel like explaining himself.

Lupin was silent while they waited for Mortis to arrive, and it wasn't until they were seated on the carpet and soaring back toward Hogsmeade - and Severus had begun to think Lupin was going to let the matter drop unremarked on - that he asked, "Is it true, then?"

Severus stiffened, and for a moment, he considered pretending he hadn't heard the question. But Lupin wasn't the type to let things drop - which didn't mean Severus had to make it easy on him. "Is what true?" he asked, looking down at the passing landscape, hoping Lupin wasn't referring to what he thought he was.

"The Hat said you were gay, and since I know you aren't the merry-making type, I assume it was implying you're homosexual," Lupin replied. "I simply wondered if that was true." He paused, and then he added, "For the record, it won't make me think less of you. I'm more on the gay side of bisexual myself."

"Oh?" Severus turned to look at Lupin at that. He'd known the man hadn't had the same feelings for Tonks as she had for him, but he'd thought it had to do with the strong-arm tactics Tonks and Molly Weasley had resorted to. He'd not been surprised to find out Lupin had married the clumsy chit, since he'd never thought Lupin could stand against their combined efforts. But apparently there had been even more to Lupin's lack of interest in his wife than mere personality incompatibilities.

Tilting his chin up, he nodded. "Yes, I'm gay," he replied. "Not that it matters. My life has hardly been conducive to developing relationships, as you know. As much hell as I took from your friends, I can only imagine what further horrors would have been visited upon me if it had been discovered I preferred males to females."

"That would be why I never told them - or anyone else - either." Lupin shrugged and smiled slightly. "It was bad enough dealing with the prejudice against werewolves, and I did like women, just not as much as I liked men. Still, it was a moot point. My life wasn't really conducive to relationships either. _If_ they could overlook my furry little problem, then there was the matter of my inability to find and keep a job because of it. On the whole, it seemed simpler to avoid the issue altogether." His expression turned pensive, and his voice grew softer. "Then Tonks came along. I wasn't in love with her, but everyone seemed to think I ought to be grateful she was in love with me, and it was easier to give in. I thought perhaps it was my shot at having a normal life, but the only good that came out of it was Teddy." He drew himself up suddenly and gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "Sorry. I don't know why I rambled on like that. I don't imagine you care."

Surprisingly, Severus found he _did_ care. He had listened intently to Lupin's words, watching the play of emotions across Lupin's face as he spoke of his friends, his lycanthropy, and his marriage. He was struck by how similar they were, when the obvious was stripped away. They both had an inner core of Darkness affecting their lives, Darkness thrust upon them by men who had stolen their innocence and subjected them to pain beyond imagining. Unlike Lupin, Severus might have been able to let go of his had he known how, but it was far too late for that now; it was part of him, just as the wolf had been a part of Lupin.

"You took the easy path, while I took the hard one, simply because I would not be forced into anyone's mold," he said, his voice deep and soft. "We both failed to do what was right for ourselves, because we were pushed by the thoughts and actions of others. And, again, we both ended up in balance in the end. Although if you love your son, as you have said, then you ended up ahead of me. There is no one to mourn me, no one to care that I ever lived. I suppose that means your way was better, after all. At least one good thing came out of your life. I cannot say the same of mine."

"You helped rid the world of a great evil that would have destroyed wizards and Muggles alike," Lupin pointed out. "Even now you're still saving the world in gathering up these fragments. Perhaps you won't leave behind a son or a legion of mourners, but considering how many lives you have saved over the past twenty years and how many you are saving by ridding the world of this creature once and for all, I'd say _great_ things have come of your life. Besides, _you_ aren't dead yet. Take off those robes, and you're a mortal man again. You've still got a chance to change things and do what is right for yourself."

"No, I don't," Severus shook his head. "I'm dead as far as the world is concerned. Take off the robes, and yes, I'm mortal, which means I could be killed." He shrugged. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. And I needn't remind you that while I'm ridding the world of a great evil _now_ , it's an evil that I fully supported and helped - up to the point where it killed my last friend in the world. I might as well be dead, and I don't say that because I feel sorry for myself. Minerva may have maneuvered me into this position, but I am responsible for every decision I made leading up to it."

"Including the decision you made to turn your back on evil." Lupin fixed him with a steady look. "You chose your darkness, but you also chose to embrace the light again. I respect that," he continued. "Where there's life, there's hope, as they say, and even though theWizarding World thinks Severus Snape is dead, there's a vast world out there that doesn't even know who you are - and you _aren't_ dead. You have a second chance, albeit under unusual circumstances. You could probably even find a lover. It isn't unprecedented for the Incarnations to have a partner, even Death."

Severus blinked at that. "Really?" he asked, curious. Then he shrugged and shook his head. "I have no interest in finding anyone and explaining all this." He waved his hand, indicating Mortis and his own office. "Not to mention that constant clients hardly leave time for an uninterrupted relationship, even were I so inclined. I've spent many years alone; it is easier that way. Especially if I truly am immortal, as Minerva said. I notice she hasn't ever seemed to have anyone, either. How would it be to live on forever and watch someone you cared for die?"

Lupin inclined his head to acknowledge the point. "It's your decision," he said with a little shrug. "If I were alive and had the chance, I'd want to experience love and happiness if I could, even if there was a price to pay for it later, but I'm looking at it from the perspective of one who will have neither the chance nor the choice ever again."

"Why wouldn't you?" Severus asked. "When in Purgatory, you have a solid body, do you not? Is there anything keeping you from doing as you please when you are there? Granted the selection might be limited to the Incarnations and to other people in Purgatory, but that isn't the same has having no chance or no choice whatsoever." He smirked. "And there you won't have to worry about people pushing you in a certain direction or judging you for it."

"I could ask you the same thing," Lupin retorted, raising one eyebrow. "If you choose someone from Purgatory or another Immortal, then you won't have to worry about watching them die. In fact, a certain Incarnation seemed rather interested, so what is your excuse now?"

"Regulus?" Severus was taken aback at Lupin's suggestion, but then he shrugged. "He and I were friends, yes, but not friends in that way. I don't know if that would work between us."

"I don't think he would be averse to trying," Lupin replied, folding his arms across his chest. "Anyway, _you_ have options, so if you don't take advantage of them, you have only yourself to blame for being alone or lonely this time."

"And I notice you didn't answer my question," Severus replied. "You have options as well, and if you don't take advantage of them, etc, etc." He grinned wickedly. "Or do you not like being hoist on your own petard?"

"It seems pointless for me," Lupin replied, his shoulders drooping as he looked away. "I'm dead. I'm a ghost as soon as I leave Purgatory, and while I may be solid when I'm there, it's not a real body. To carry on like I'm normal and alive and what I do means anything seems foolish."

"Do you not still feel?" Severus asked, wondering at Lupin's defeatist attitude. "You said you wished a chance, and you do have one, at least in Purgatory itself. Does your body there react like a real one? And even if it didn't, if you are looking for a relationship to make you happy, it doesn't necessarily have to involve sex." He paused briefly before adding, "And I did promise you that I'd have them review your case. I'm sorry I haven't done it yet, but I will. Heaven is supposed to be perfect, and therefore I'm sure you'd have everything there that you desired." He felt a pang at the thought of Lupin not being in Purgatory any longer, which caught him by surprise. 

Lupin rubbed his forehead and sighed. "You've had enough on your plate, and to be honest, I'd rather you didn't submit a review request until your probation period is over or until we find all the soul fragments. You're still figuring out the job, and I think it will be much easier for you to find the fragments if I'm here to help." He held up the Pom and smiled wryly. "I have the cool toy, after all. Anyway, I apologize. I'm not usually so doom and gloom. I need to remember things could be worse: I could be back at Headquarters - or even in Hell. All things considered, I do have much to be grateful for."

"Things could always be worse," Severus agreed. It was a good mantra for him to remember, as well, although he was puzzled that Lupin protested about wanting an opportunity for happiness and then pushed it away when Severus pointed out several possibilities. He gave a mental shrug, then pointed below them. "We're there, it seems. Mortis, please put us down just outside the town. We can walk the rest of the way."

As soon as Mortis touched down, Lupin alighted, turning transparent as soon as his feet hit the ground, and he held up the Pom and touched the screen. "It's that way," he said, pointing. "Looks like it's somewhere near the Hog's Head."

"Oh, joy - Hogsmeade's low rent district," Severus muttered, following along in Lupin's wake. "Of all the places in the area it could go, it went slumming. Figures." 

"Seeking its own level, I suppose," Lupin said, a hint of derision in his voice.

As they reached the outskirts of the village, Lupin kept moving inexorably in the direction of the disreputable establishment run by Aberforth Dumbledore, but rather than go _in_ the building, he went around back, heading toward the fenced-in pasture in which several goats milled aimlessly. He stopped, double-checked the map, and shook his head, chuckling.

"You'll never believe this," he said, sounding amused. "It appears to have taken refuge in one of these goats."

" _What_?" Severus boggled at that, then snorted in contemptuous amusement. "I could make so many jokes about the Dark Lord's preferences based on this, but I'm certain that there must be sin in being so evilly amused." He moved toward the gate, stepping through it and looking back at Lupin. "So, which one?"

Lupin floated through the wood fence and levitated enough that his spectral feet weren't near the ground, as if to avoid the goat droppings even though they wouldn't stick to ectoplasm; the goats bleated and shied away when he moved near them, but after a few minutes of chasing after the small herd, he identified a billy goat loitering near the water trough. "This one," he called out.

"Let's get this over before Aberforth catches us," Severus said, heading toward the goat with determination. 

Fortunately his boots and robes seemed impervious to dirt and dung, and he didn't care to pick his way over and risk the damned goat taking off. He pulled the soul bottle from his robe and circled the goat, looking for an opportunity to strike. For some reason, he'd never felt so ridiculous in his life.

Moving quickly, Severus held out a hand and reached into the goat, reaching for the soul fragment. The goat bleated once in horrified alarm, then went still at the touch of Death. Severus concentrated, and then pulled forth the soul fragment with a sigh of relief, quickly consigning it to the bottle.

"Done," he said, holding up the bottle toward Lupin with a smile of triumph. "Let's go. We have less than ten minutes to pick up our next client. But we did it!"

"Congratulations," Lupin replied as he pocketed the Pom and offered an encouraging smile in return.

"I wouldn't have found them without you," Severus acknowledged truthfully. "You and the hurdy-gurdy were invaluable."

"I'm glad to help," Lupin replied. "I didn't get the chance to do much to oppose Voldemort while I was alive. It's satisfying to help send him off to his final, overdue 'reward'."

"Mortis!" Severus called as he reached Lupin's side. "It's good that you're finding something about being around me worthwhile."

Lupin glanced sidelong at him, appearing surprised by the remark. "I've never hated you," he said. "There have been times when I haven't liked you very much, but I never hated you or considered you an enemy." When Mortis arrived, he climbed on and settled on the carpet, his body solidifying once more. "Actually," he added in a more pensive tone, "I owe you an apology. I never stopped James and Sirius from harassing you, and I should have, not only because it was my duty as a prefect, but because it was the right thing to do. Being passive and letting them get away with things like that even though I knew it was wrong, and I didn't approve is one of the things I'm ashamed of and wish I could change. As it is, all I can do is say I'm sorry."

The apology surprised Severus, and it wasn't until he was settled on Mortis and they were airborn that he could move past his shock to actually think. Something tight within him, something small and hurting, relaxed at Lupin's words. 

"Thank you," he said finally, his voice husky. He realized that he, too, wasn't blameless for what had gone on between them. "I owe you an apology as well. I shouldn't have told the Slytherins you were a lycanthrope. I was angry, and I couldn't lash out at Black, so I lashed out at you. I can't say I never hated you, but it was always for your association with Potter and Black."

Lupin appeared startled, but then he nodded. "I _was_ angry with you for that, but later, I learned I couldn't have kept the position anyway. Voldemort had cursed it, and I suspect the curse was affecting you and using you as a means of achieving its end. In comparison to those who came before and after me, I think I got off rather lightly. If I'm angry with anyone, it's at Dumbledore for offering me false hope."

Severus nodded. "I understand about that," he replied, his jaw hard. Then he shrugged. "Not that there is anything to be done about it now, and while I'm certain Albus went to Heaven, I've no doubt he had more than a small measure of evil on his soul for the way he manipulated people. The ends may have justified the means, I suppose, but... well, it makes you wonder if it wouldn't have been better when Voldemort came to Hogwarts, seeking the Defense position, if Albus hadn't just given it to him. That way he could have kept a closer eye on him and had the Ministry send him toAzkaban for doing Dark Magic."

"Voldemort would have known Dumbledore was watching him like a hawk," Lupin pointed out. "He would have been very careful, and it might have been a long time before he slipped up. Meanwhile, think of the damage he could have done to the students and to the school itself. It would have been worse than having a piece of his soul embedded in the Sorting Hat."

"I suppose so," Severus said slowly. "I suppose there is no more use subjecting Albus to 'what-ifs' than it is ourselves. What is past is past and can't be changed; all we can do is try to make it better in the future." He looked sidelong at Lupin and snorted. "Apparently becoming Death has turned me horribly philosophical. Perhaps I should go snap and snarl at a few people just to keep in practice."

"I've wondered about that," Lupin replied in a casual tone, turning his attention to the scenery as they flew by. "It seems you've been the pragmatic, accepting one, while I have been the grumpy one."

"I had noticed that, actually," Severus said. "We've both been faced with the single biggest change of our lives, and people react to pressure differently. Or perhaps it is because I feel there is hope for my situation, at least of a sort, and you feel there is none for yours. Were you grumpy when you died? Perhaps the last emotion you feel carries over into the afterlife."

"Grumpy doesn't begin to cover it." Lupin's expression darkened, and he pressed his lips into a hard line. "I was angry. I don't think I've ever been as angry in my entire life than I was in the moment before I died."

Severus considered that and nodded. "That's understandable. You had good reason to be angry, after all. Whereas I... I was satisfied. Almost peaceful. Not happy, but at I felt as though I'd accomplished what I set out to do, and I accepted the end of my life." He shrugged. "Perhaps the mental state in the moments before death does carry an influence. I know I'm not technically dead, but I _am_ in the afterlife."

"Perhaps that explains it, then." Lupin shrugged slightly. "I definitely wasn't satisfied with the end of my life. Or all the thirty-some years before the end, for that matter." He glanced sidelong at Severus. "Yes, I know I have no one to blame for that but myself. It doesn't make accepting things any easier. The only good thing is that I've got the rest of eternity to get over it."

"Perhaps you accepted things too easily in life, and that's making it harder now," Severus suggested. "Whatever the reason, you have a right to feel as you do, since you finally had something you wanted, only to have it taken away." He paused, something occurring to him. "You could see him, you know. Your son. You don't have a body, but that doesn't mean you can't be a part of his life. The ghosts at Hogwarts interact with the students all the time. Why shouldn't you?"

"Right." Lupin's response was terse, and he looked away, his back and shoulders stiff with tension. There seemed to be something bottled up, on the verge of bursting out, but he was holding it in check.

Severus snorted. "If you don't say whatever it is that you are withholding, you just might explode," he said. "Come on, out with it. Have I derided you or said anything that makes you think that I'm not willing to listen?"

"Old habits die hard," Lupin replied, his tone clipped, although whether he was referring to himself, to Severus, or both, Severus wasn't certain. Then Lupin scrubbed his face with both hands and sighed. "Fine. You want me to say what I'm thinking? I'm thinking I don't want to be a ghost, haunting my own son. I want to be able to touch him, to raise him, to be a real father to him, not just some man in an old photograph or an untouchable ghost. Yes, I _can_ see him, but the thought is torturous. It's second-best - just like everything else in my life. I never got the simple, normal things everyone else took for granted. A job, real friends who didn't see me as a charity case or a pet to be used in a stupid prank, a home, a partner. Most people wouldn't even _touch_ me, as if I could contaminate them. Now I'm on the outside looking in again, and it isn't fair! I'd almost rather be moldering in the ground, my consciousnessutterly eradicated, than spend an eternity of being a second-class citizen."

Severus was silent for a time when Lupin finally ran down, more than a bit taken aback that the mask had cracked wide open, and Lupin's normal reticence was completely gone. Still, he'd invited the confidence, but for the life of him, he couldn't think of what to say. To snark and snap as he normally would have would simply put Lupin on the defensive and served no purpose, while he was no good at uttering platitudes. He felt Lupin had a point, but it was as though he were wallowing in it, having shot down every suggestion Severus had made to help him find a way to deal with it. He pulled away his hood so that Lupin could see his face, and he held Lupin's gaze steadily. "If that is what you want - what you _really_ want - I'm sure it can be arranged. But think long and hard. There is no coming back from that path."

Lupin met Severus' gaze and held it, but then he looked away with a grimace. "No, apparently I'm too much of a coward to give up even a half-life. I suppose now you'll say I haven't got the right to keep whinging and feeling sorry for myself if I don't have the guts to end it. I just have to suck it up and be grateful for the crumbs."

Severus scowled. "Do not put words in my mouth," he said, losing his patience. "I said no such thing, nor did I even think it. I have, in fact, been attempting to help, but apparently I haven't found whatever the right suggestion is. I have never been an advocate of being grateful for crumbs, but neither can I read your mind and pluck from it whatever it is that will help you to deal with your situation. I believe I have shown you all due courtesy and appreciation, while you, on the other hand, have repaid me by assuming the worst of me. I find it ironic that while I was chronically dissatisfied with my life, I have found some tiny bit of hope in the afterlife, while you kept silent during yours and now seem to express the dissatisfaction you internalized. And yet again, here we both are." He shrugged. "I would offer you my sympathy, but you are getting all the pity you need from yourself."

Lupin frowned and looked away, folding his arms across his chest. "I apologize for making assumptions," he said. "I won't do it again."

"And now you are going to shut me out." Severus' voice was flat, and he gave a grumbling sigh. "I'm hardly qualified to give life - or afterlife - advice, yet I will say if what displeased you in your life was a lack of action to do what made you happy, then continuing along in that same vein is hardly likely to yield better results in the afterlife. Now I will say no more on the subject, because it's obvious that whatever I say is wrong. Once we capture the remainder of Voldemort's soul, I will make a recommendation for your case to be reviewed. Perhaps you'll find the help in Heaven that you obviously aren't receiving here."

"What do you want me to say?" Lupin turned to Severus, his expression incredulous. "I have been more open and honest with _you_ , of all people, than I was with anyone else, even my own wife, and you're complaining about being shut out and acting like a martyr because I haven't said, 'Oh, you're right, Severus, and I feel ever so much better now'? The irony of youchastising me over being bitter is overwhelming. I appreciate your attempts to help, but this is something I will have to work through at my own pace."

Severus reeled back as though he'd been slapped, and then he yanked down his hood, the skull mask settling once more over his features. "I will spare you further irony. In fact, I will spare you further conversation of any sort. Work through your problems your own way, Lupin. I will no longer attempt to help." With that, he faced forward. "Mortis! Faster, if you please. Let's get this over with and back to Purgatory."

"Fine," Lupin muttered, although there was a flash of something like guilt in his eyes before he pulled out his Pomegranate and focused his attention on that instead.

As they flew onward toward their goal, Severus ground his teeth silently, wanting nothing more than to be alone. It was far less complicated. If this was the grief he got for trying to help, perhaps he was far better off being a snarky bastard.


	9. Chapter 9

As little as Remus liked the frame of mind he found himself in, he couldn't manage to shake it; he was angry and resentful about dying, about being found lacking, about not having a second chance - about everything. He knew life wasn't fair, but he hadn't thought the afterlife would be unfair as well, and sometimes, the oblivion option didn't seem half-bad. At least then, he wouldn't know what he was missing.

The worst thing was, he had plenty of time to think about his situation because Severus was as good as his word, and Remus found himself left behind. At first, he thought perhaps there was a lull in the number of clients, but when he checked Severus' schedule on his Pom, he saw that Death was as fully booked as ever. He accessed the Death channel, dismayed when the news reported that apparently, the new Death had decided toforgo the services of his assistant, and there was some speculation about whether the assistant would continue to be employed in Death's household or if he would be reassigned to Headquarters.

Remus turned off the Pom and sank down on the edge of his bed, melancholy washing over him. He wasn't surprised; Severus didn't really need an assistant anyway, especially not one who was cranky and quarrelsome. In life, he'd undermined himself by not speaking up enough; in death, he'd undermined himself by speaking up too much. Perhaps it was for the best if he did get transferred, but he didn't want to spend eternity behind a desk, and he wasn't sure he wanted to go to Heaven either, considering who might be there. He was reasonably sure James and Sirius had gone straight to Heaven, because things generally worked out in the Golden Boys' favor, but he hadn't seen James in twenty years, and he hadn't much liked Sirius before Sirius fell through the Veil, a self-pitying alcoholic. He wasn't keen on spending eternity with Tonks, either; _she_ might be happy about it, but it wasn't his idea of Heaven.

The problem, he realized, was that he couldn't have what he really wanted - a second chance at life - and he wasn't satisfied with what he could have. As a result, he was going to lose even the crumbs and be shuffled off somewhere else. He was down to two options: allow himself to be shuffled or make the best of things where he was, apologize to Severus, and ask for his job back. At least if he went with option two, it would be his choice, not a decision made for him, and that, at least, was something.

Thereby resolved, he went outside the mansion and planted himself by the front door, determined to wait until Severus returned from collecting clients.

When Severus appeared sometime later, however, he was on foot and coming from the direction of Purgatory Headquarters, wearing an annoyed expression and walking with a stride that shrieked of barely leashed frustration. It was obvious the moment he spotted Remus, for his face immediately became a mask, and he lifted his chin at a haughty angle as he made to move by Remus without speaking.

Remus scrambled to his feet and fell into step with Severus, curious and more than a little worried that Severus had already requested his transfer. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

For a moment, it seemed that Severus wouldn't answer, but then he snarled, stopping in place and holding out a hand. "Give me that damned box of yours," he said, in a tone that made it obvious it wasn't a request.

Remus hesitated, his heart sinking into his shoes, but he nodded mutely and pulled the Pom out of his pocket, placing it in Severus' outstretched hand.

Severus looked at it, frowning once again as he tapped the screen, which remained obstinately dark. The Pom squawked at him, then made a noise that sounded like a raspberry before shutting down entirely. Severus' expression became thunderous, and for a moment, Remus wondered if he was going to fling the Pom to the ground. But he didn't, only giving a grunt of disgust before handing it back to Remus with the same distaste with which he would have handled a cute, fuzzy kitten.

"Everything in this damned place is against me," he muttered darkly. Then he pointed a finger at Remus' chest. "Purgatory Headquarters are 'regrettably unable' to help me find the rest of Voldemort's soul fragments. Apparently that stupid thing won't work for me, either, so if you can manage to come out of your sulk for five minutes and find them and tell me where they are, I'll get on with what I have to do."

"I'll help in any way I can," Remus said as he pocketed the Pom again. He paused, debating whether to try to talk to Severus now or wait for a better time, but there likely wouldn't be a better time; drawing in a deep breath, he took the plunge. "I was waiting for you because I want to apologize for being so difficult. I know you were trying to help, and I appreciate it. I shouldn't have taken out my anger and frustration on you, but I've moved past the anger," he said, which was true. The anger, resentment, and bitterness had given way to melancholy, but that was a state he could manage; he had done it often enough in life, and it was far more familiar than anger. "I want to be here, not in Headquarters and not in Heaven. I'd like to remain your assistant, if you'll give me a second chance."

Eyes narrowed, Severus looked at him, _into_ him, as though he was trying to see whether Remus was telling the truth or simply mouthing platitudes. For several long moments, he didn't say anything at all, and then he sniffed disdainfully. "Fine, then do your job," he said, before stepping back. "Find those soul fragments, and I will consider keeping you as my assistant."

"Yes, Severus," Remus replied quietly. "I'll get on it right away." He debated asking if Severus wanted him to tag along on routine collections, but he decided the answer would probably be no; it was clear he was on probation, and the best idea was to do what he'd been asked to do - and do it quickly and well. "Is there anything else you'd like me to research?" he asked.

"No, nothing," Severus said. "I want to be done with Voldemort once and for all. There isn't anything else I care about."

That was clear enough, and Remus nodded as he drew himself up straight, determined to do his job to the best of his ability; it didn't matter if he and Severus were friends as long as they worked together effectively and efficiently, and the satisfaction being productive and of a job well done would be enough for Remus. It had to be.

"I'll let you know as soon as I find something," he said, and then he turned and walked away, not waiting to be dismissed.

Instead of returning to his quarters, he went to sync up the Pom with Death's computer, wanting a bigger screen to work with for this particular task. At first, he wasn't certain where to start, since he'd had general locations to use as a starting point for the first three fragments. Searching the GPS for "Voldemort" came up with an "unknown name" error, since that was his self-styled pseudonym, and "Tom Riddle" gave him several hundred-thousand hits all over the world. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he settled in with renewed determination; this was a challenge, and he was resolved to meet and conquer it.

He had no idea how much time passed before he left the office; time mattered little to him here except when it came to keeping Death on schedule, but since Remus was unencumbered by the needs of a mortal body, he didn't get tired, he didn't get hungry, and he didn't need to go to the loo, thus he could keep searching for as long as it took to find the information he needed. After going round and round with the computer, which had to be asked the right question in the right way before it gave any useful information, he had finally located the fourth fragment. It had gone farther afield than the previous three, but he had pinpointed it on the GPS, so he could continue tracking it even if it remained on the move. Satisfied with his findings, he went off in search of Severus to report his success.

The GPS pointed him toward the library, where he found Severus sitting on the low sofa, holding the soul bottle and staring frowningly at the greyish ooze that formed what they had of Voldemort's soul. He glanced up as Remus came in, his expression wary, and he lifted a brow. "Well? It's been three days. Have you found anything?"

Remus blinked, startled to learn he'd been immersed in research for so long, and he straightened his clothes as if they could have been wrinkled somehow, which was impossible given they weren't real, merely a projected illusion of what he'd been wearing when he died.

"I have, yes," he said, adopting his most calm and professional demeanor. He wanted to prove he would do his job well, and there would be no more unseemly outbursts. "The fourth fragment is hiding in Lourdes, ironically enough. After we collect that one, I'll pinpoint the fifth fragment. I believe I've found the key to tracking them, so it shouldn't take another three days for me to find it."

"Oh?" Severus looked interested at that, and his tense shoulders seemed to relax a bit, as though Remus' admission had relieved some bit of inner worry. "Good. So, what is it? I want to get this over with as quickly as possible."

"Virtues," Remus replied, pulling out a sheaf of print-outs and holding them out for Severus to examine. "It's simple, now that I know what it is, but it took a while for me to figure it out. Fortunately, I had the Pom and your computer to help. There were seven Horcruxes, which is a mystical number in and of itself, so I worked under the assumption that Voldemort created seven of them for a reason. Eventually, I realized he removed an aspect of himself - a virtue, to be exact - with each Horcrux. Then it was a matter of figuring out which virtue is associated with which Horcrux. Temperance is the fourth. With that in mind, all we have to do is search for him _and_ the virtue simultaneously, which will home in on a specific fragment's location." He paused and added, "Assuming I'm right, that is. The only way we'll know whether we're being led to a soul fragment or to the Temperance Movement headquarters is to go to Lourdes."

Severus gave a snort, one that almost sounded amused. He rose to his feet, tucking the soul bottle into one of his capacious pockets, and turned toward the door. "We'll test out your theory now," he said decisively. "The sooner we know, the sooner we can put Voldemort in Hell as he so richly deserves."

Remus nodded, tucked away his notes and the Pom, and followed along behind Severus, careful to maintain a professional, deferential demeanor. He hoped his theory was right, because the sooner Voldemort's soul had been sent where it belonged, the better off the entire world would be. He didn't want Teddy growing up with Voldemort still posing a threat; he had died to _prevent_ that, to keep his son safe, and he would be damned if he let Voldemort turn his death into a meaningless waste. Not to mention, he might regain a little of his credibility if he was right about Voldemort having systematically shed himself of his virtues; he wanted to keep this job, and he wanted to be a good assistant, and he was determined to prove he was worth keeping around.

Once outside, Severus summoned Mortis, and within short order, they were heading toward France. When they reached the ground, Mortis shifted into his pale limousine form, carrying them swiftly toward Lourdes. "Where are we going, exactly?" Severus asked, breaking the silence for the first time. 

Remus consulted the Pom, bringing up the GPS system and syncing it with Mortis; he touched the pulsing red dot on the screen, zooming in to their location. "A convent," he said, raising both eyebrows in surprise. "I wonder if it tried to take refuge in a holy artifact, as if that would keep it safe."

"That would be... disturbing." Severus' voice held disapproval, and he was frowning heavily. "Although I would think that anything truly holy would be able to resist something so tainted." 

"Perhaps the fragment retained just enough good within it to keep that from happening," Remus mused. "It does seem fitting, in an odd way, for temperance to seek refuge at a convent."

"Even twisted by Voldemort's evil?" Severus seemed to mull that over, then shrugged, glancing at the gate they were swiftly approaching. The gate parted before them without them having to do anything, and they passed through without stopping, although it wasn't clear if it was because even a house of God couldn't stop Death or if the mission they were on had been recognized by something or someone of power. Either way, they rolled up to the foot of the steps of a stately old building, the dim lights within indicating that the inhabitants had retired for the night.

Severus drew in a breath as though steeling himself for a battle, then raised the hood of his robe. "Let's go," he said, then opened the door and stepped from Mortis.

Remus opened the door and climbed out of the car as well, feeling the familiar ripple wash over him as his solidity faded away and left him incorporeal, but he ignored it in favor of tracking the red dot on the screen and leading Severus in the right direction. He thought perhaps they might be directed to the chapel, but instead, he found their path turned toward the hospital ward. A sinking feeling crept over him as he realized they might not be seeking an artifact after all. His suspicions were borne out when they reached a locked door, and the Pom indicated they had arrived. He levitated up so he could peer in the tiny window embedded in the door and saw a woman curled up in the corner of a padded cell.

"It's in there," he said quietly, floating out of the way.

"I don't think I like this," Severus muttered darkly as he peered into the window. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then reached out and opened the door, stepping inside the cell and pulling it swiftly closed behind him, as though to keep the inmate from escaping.

The woman had been quiescent until the door opened, and barely had Severus gotten it closed before she launched herself toward it. It wasn't certain if she saw Severus or simply a way out, but she certainly did impact with him, driving him back against the door. 

"Stop!" Severus barked, reaching out to take the woman by the shoulders. Her hair was wild about her face, and her eyes, although sunken in her face, seemed to burn with madness - an expression all too reminiscent of another woman who had been one of Voldemort's most loyal followers.

"Death!" she shrieked, then laughed maniacally. "Do you think you've come for me? No, no, I won't die! I won't! He will save me! I dreamed of him, and He will save me from even you!"

Severus shook the woman, but only once and in a gesture that seemed more to get her attention than to hurt her. "Listen to me! You are possessed, do you hear me? What is in you is evil and wrong. I've not come to kill you, only to take out what has infested you and driven you mad."

"No!" The woman flailed wildly, kicking her legs and trying to scratch as Severus' face with her nails, but the protection offered by the robe and mask was invulnerable. She shrieked again, an inhuman sound, her back bending almost in half as she leaned back in an obvious effort to try to get away. Severus glanced back at the window, although Remus wasn't certain if it was to seek his assistance or his approval. Then Severus moved, slamming the woman into the padded wall, hard enough to knock the breath from her body. 

As she gasped, Severus removed one hand and reached toward her chest, plunging his hand within as he did when removing a soul. Remus heard him snarl in frustration. "It's twined about her soul! I don't know if I can pull it out without taking hers as well." The woman began to struggle again, a cry of agony splitting the air as Death touched her soul. "Lupin! Dammit, any suggestions?"

"You'll have to untangle them manually," Remus replied, floating through the door and entering the cell. He ached for the poor woman's suffering, but as soon as she was free of Voldemort's taint, her suffering would end. "You can't kill her if Fate hasn't cut her thread. Pull out her soul as much as you can, and you'll be able to detach the fragment more easily. It'll be heavier than hers, and once you've got it out in the open, so to speak, it will begin to sink on its own."

Even through the mask, Remus imagined he could see the look of incredulity Severus must be giving him, but then Severus grunted and began to withdraw his hand. Slowly the skeletal fingers of his glove emerged, and Remus could see they were clenched around a glowing white soul, far brighter and and more vivid than the grey souls they normally dealt with. But it was apparent something was clinging to the lower portion of it , faint and dark, like a sheer dark curtain drawn to block out the sun. As Severus stood, holding the soul of the screaming woman in his hand, the dimness seemed to ooze downward, like a dirty film. As it moved lower, it seemed to congeal, until it clung to the bottom of the pristine soul like some nightmarish leech.

Severus released the woman's shoulder, using his now free hand to pull at the darkness. It didn't want to pull away, but Severus persisted, despite the way the woman cried out as though suffering more than any human should bear - worse, even, than the screams of a man being broken by the transformation of lycanthropy. Then the darkness finally pulled free, and Severus released the gleaming soul, which sprang back into the woman's chest as though on a stretched spring. Severus swiftly caught her, easing her down to the padded floor as he held the fragment of Voldemort's soul up and away from her, obviously not taking a chance that it would try to spring back to its hiding place.

The woman had stopped screaming, having fainted when her soul was returned. Severus looked down at her, and Remus caught his voice, low and tortured. "I am sorry - so sorry."

"You did what you had to do," Remus said sympathetically. It hadn't been easy for him to watch - especially since he couldn't do anything to help either of them - and he could imagine it hadn't been easy for Severus to inflict such pain on an innocent woman. "She's free now, and her soul is no longer tainted by Voldemort's evil. You _helped_ her."

Severus said nothing, but Remus caught the way he shuddered. Then Severus reached into his pockets to remove the soul bottle, quickly placing the soul fragment inside. He returned the soul bottle to his robe, then pulled back his hood, baring his face and bending down over the woman, easing her into a more comfortable position almost gently. "If there is any justice, your God will recognize your suffering and help you heal," he murmured. In the moonlight streaming in from the windows, it was easy to see that Severus' expression was bleak, as though he didn't really believe that what the woman had endured would be recognized at all.

Remus hesitated, not knowing what to say and unable to _do_ anything as long as he was incorporeal; he wasn't certain any overtures would be welcome anyway, but he drifted closer. "I'm sure she'll be all right," he said lamely. "She'll be herself again once she wakes up. Surely that counts for something."

"Does it?" Severus turned to look at him, his eyes seeming to bore right through him. "What kind of a God allows innocents to suffer so? You and I, we made mistakes in our lives; we contributed to our own fates. But you saw her soul; it was pure. She was here, where she should have been safe from anything like this, but it didn't matter, just as it didn't matter that you never asked for your lycanthropy and I never wanted to kill Dumbledore. The system is _broken_! You have seen evil, and I've held it in my hands. How many people like us are in Hell without truly deserving to be?"

"That's one question I can't answer," Remus replied, tucking his hands into the pockets of his cardigan. "I agree the system is flawed. Intentions and choice aren't taken into account, and I'm quite certain some souls have been improperly sorted, just as some students at Hogwarts were. But you have the tools to make certain none of the souls that pass through your hands are improperly sorted." He gazed at the unconscious woman for a moment before turning his attention back to Severus. "Besides, who's to say she _wasn't_ sent help?" he added, giving Severus a pointed look. "No human doctor would know what was truly afflicting her. She needed an Immortal to cure her - and she got one."

Severus frowned at that, but it was a thoughtful expression, not an angry one. Then he shrugged and straightened. "I will do my job to the best of my ability," he said firmly. Then he gave a mirthless smile. "And I will literally be damned if I fail." Stepping back, he moved toward the cell door and opened it. "Let's go. I don't think we can do anything else for her now. Hopefully her sisters will care for her as she needs and accept that she's all right now."

"You can always come back and check on her," Remus suggested as he floated along behind Severus on the way back to Mortis.

Severus seemed to consider that as he got into Mortis. The big limousine turned and headed back toward the gates. "I might," Severus said quietly, and Remus noticed him glance into the mirror at the rapidly dwindling shape of the monastery. Then he looked at Remus again. "If the fragment was that horrible attached to a pure soul, what would it be if we run across one attached to someone truly evil?"

"I don't even want to think about it," Remus said, shivering reflexively at the horrific idea.

"Unfortunately that is not an option," Severus replied grimly. "You were right about the location of this fragment... now we have to find the rest. And I'm not going to believe that it's going to get _easier_ as we go along. The fragments will have been free longer, and it seems that there is some innate ability to, over time, find a more defensible hiding place. While you look for the next fragment, I'm going to see what other options I have for collecting the blasted things."

"All right," Remus agreed, settling back against the plush seat for the return trip. Severus was silent as well, and within short order, they were back in Purgatory, having regained one fragment of Voldemort's soul, although at a rather steep and disturbing price.


	10. Chapter 10

While Lupin set about finding the next soul fragment, Severus sought out Jeeves. 

"I need to know if my predecessor had any other items with which he carried out his duties," he said without preamble when Jeeves answered his summons. 

Jeeves nodded. "There is the Scythe," he replied easily. "Death's weapon, which will cut down any immortal enemy or magical creature."

Severus lifted a brow. "That could be useful," he said, but then he frowned. "What about something that would help me to separate a dead soul from a living one?"

For once, Jeeves look surprised. "No... your dominion is dead souls, not living ones." He paused, considering. "Nature might be able to help you, though; life is _her_ domain. The Green Mother would know, if anyone would."

Nature was the one major Incarnation Severus hadn't yet met, and it seemed as though he was going to have to pay her a call. Given that he didn't know what to expect from her, he decided that taking Lupin might be a wise idea. He didn't know who Nature was, but if she took a dislike to him on sight as many people did, she might not be willing to help him. Lupin, on the other hand, had an admitted knack with people, who seemed to like him.

"Thank you, Jeeves," Severus said, with the unconscious courtesy he seemed to have developed when he took the Office. Then he went off in search of Lupin.

Lupin was easily found hunched in front of the computer, and he glanced up when Severus walked into the office, peering at him over his glasses. "I haven't quite pinpointed the location of the next fragment yet," he said apologetically, as if he worried he might be seen as slacking off or failing in his appointed task.

"I didn't expect it," Severus replied. He could tell that Lupin was being diligent about his job, as though he were afraid Severus was about to fire him and send him back to Headquarters. The beginnings of trust and understanding he thought they had been building had been well and truly shattered by their fight - if one could call it that - several days before, and while Severus missed what was almost camaraderie, he didn't know how to bridge the gap. He tried with Lupin and been roundly set down for his pains, and even though Lupin had apologized, Severus' innate reserve had reasserted itself. Whatever peace he'd carried over from his near-death was gone, and in its place was a sort of resignation. He'd take Lupin's help, but obviously Lupin didn't want or need Severus' advice, so he wouldn't offer it again. So it was only logic that drove him to seek Lupin's company on this trip. At least that was what he told himself firmly.

"I am going to see Nature," he continued, the words feeling awkward and stilted even as he said them, but he couldn't help it. "If you wish to accompany me, you may."

Lupin gazed at Severus quizzically even as he pushed back his chair and stood up. "Is this a social call or a business trip?"

"Business," Severus replied, relaxing a bit as Lupin didn't question his motives or the invitation. "Jeeves suggested that since Nature has dominion over life, and we have pieces of a dead soul that has tried to possess a live one, she might be able to offer suggestions about an easier way to separate the two than what I had to do to that nun."

"That's a sensible idea." Lupin skirted around the desk and stopped a safe distance away from Severus. "Did Jeeves have any other suggestions?"

"He pointed out that Death has a weapon - a Scythe - which will cut down both immortal and magical creatures," Severus said. "I suppose I should carry it, just in case, but it doesn't seem that it would be terribly useful if the next fragment possesses another innocent. I could use magic for some things, but Wizardry dealing with souls is invariably Dark magic, and I'd rather do something the hard way than shift my balance any further toward evil."

"It wouldn't hurt to keep it with you," Lupin said pragmatically. "You never know when it might come in handy. Where is it? You can get it before visiting Nature, and then you'll look official. First impressions count, after all."

Severus snorted. "If she is that easily impressed or intimidated, she would be a poor excuse for an Incarnation," he said. "As for where it is... I would imagine in the foyer somewhere. I can hardly imagine anyone lugging it about the house." He started out of the room. "If it isn't there somewhere, I'll call Jeeves. Merlin knows I have no idea where anything is in this mausoleum."

Whipping out the Pom, Lupin tapped rapidly on the screen as he followed along behind Severus. "It _is_ in the foyer. In the umbrella stand, folded up."

"Everyone knows everything, except _me_ ," Severus grumbled, but there wasn't really in any heat in it. He made his way to the foyer, then looked at the umbrella stand. Sure enough, there was a folded up scythe in it, just as Lupin said. It was taller than Severus was, and he snorted as he picked it up, extending the wickedly sharp blade. "I'll put it in Mortis. I don't think I want to carry this thing about. It's dangerous."

He moved to fold it up again, but the base of it, balanced on the polished marble of the floor, slipped. Severus grabbed for it, and while he managed to keep it from clattering to the floor, the blade flashed downward and grazed Lupin's arm. Severus' eyes widened as he stared at Lupin's arm, wondering if he'd injured Lupin badly. For all that Lupin was dead, his body in Purgatory was definitely solid. "Are you all right? It slipped!"

Lupin had been engrossed in something on that damned box and glanced up, appearing bewildered. "Hmm? What slipped?" he asked absently.

"You didn't feel that?" Severus boggled, looking at the slice through the fabric of Lupin's cardigan. "Your arm could have been severed! You didn't feel it?"

Glancing down, Lupin frowned slightly at the rip in his sleeve, and then he shook his head. "No, I didn't notice it." He pushed up his sleeve to reveal a shallow wound on his forearm that was already glowing as the ectoplasm that formed his body knit it back together. "See? No blood, no nerves, no feeling." He gazed at Severus somberly. "I may be solid here in Purgatory, but this form is an illusion. My body is rotting in a grave somewhere. This is just solidified ectoplasm, not a functional body. I don't need to eat or sleep or do anything else that a living human needs - or wants - to do, and I can't feel anything."

"Nothing?" It was inconceivable to Severus that that could be the case, and it put a whole new spin on the unfairness of what had happened to Lupin. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to brush Lupin's cheek with his palm, unaware of the concern in his eyes. "You can't feel that at all?"

Lupin was visibly startled, but then he swallowed hard and shook his head. "Not like a human, no," he murmured. "To me, it's like when someone comes up behind you, close enough that you feel their presence before they actually touch you. That's the extent of what I can sense."

Severus' brows drew down into a frown. "Whomever made the rules here is deranged," he said, shaking his head. "It seems to me that would be a form of torture." He paused for a moment, then lowered his voice. "I'm sorry. You seemed so solid, which is why I suggested... but... I didn't know."

For the first time since their quarrel, the mask seemed to crack and crumble around the edges a little, and Lupin shook his head again. "It's all right," he said, and it sounded as if his voice was roughened with emotion. "You didn't know, and I didn't want to talk about it. I thought I sounded self-pitying enough as it was, and I didn't want to sound like I was fishing for sympathy. But... no. There isn't any point in attempting to find someone here in Purgatory, and Heaven would be no different."

"Wouldn't it?" Severus asked curiously. "Shouldn't Heaven be pleasant? Wouldn't you at least get that out of it? If not, there doesn't seem much point!"

"When you're a soul-entity, you aren't going to feel things like you did in a mortal body," Lupin said patiently. "The physical equipment simply isn't there, and I imagine they frown on lust in Heaven anyway." He paused, then added, "Besides, I don't know that I'd enjoy the company in Heaven all that much."

"I doubt I would, either," Severus said before he really thought about it. Then he snorted and shook his head. "I take it you don't wish to have your former wife making a nuisance of herself for eternity!"

"Not especially," Lupin replied with surprising frankness. "It isn't _my_ idea of Heaven."

Severus nodded. "I don't blame you," he replied. He was oddly disturbed by this new information, but he didn't know what to do about it, so he took refuge in returning to their plans. "Well, shall we go and see Nature anyway?"

Lupin tugged down his sleeve, which had already begun to knit back together, and nodded firmly. "Of course," he replied, his brisk, business-like demeanor returning. "There's nothing to be done about my situation, after all. You have a job to do, and my job is to help you do it. If Nature has any ideas about how to avoid another situation like you had with that poor woman, it'll be worth the trip."

For a moment, Severus wanted to say something more - to find some way to ease the pain he was sure Lupin must be feeling - but Lupin shifted back to his professional demeanor, the brief moment of sympathy and rapport suddenly over. Severus bit down on his tongue, then turned and headed toward the door, forgetting that he still had the blasted Scythe in his hand until they were already out and down the path toward his gate. He didn't want to turn around, so he carried the thing with him, feeling rather ridiculous but unable to do anything about it.

"Which way to Nature's abode?" he asked when they reached the main path. "This place is woefully short of street signs."

"Turn right at the next intersection, and then keep straight," Lupin replied, just visible out of the corner of Severus' eye. He seemed to have taken up permanent position to the right and behind Severus when they traveled together, never moving beside Severus as if to make it clear he knew his place and wasn't going to take any liberties - or wallow in self-pity any longer. "It isn't that far. All the Incarnations' residences are in Purgatory within relatively close proximity to one another."

Lupin's position made Severus vaguely uneasy; it was too much like being followed, and he didn't like not being able to look at Lupin fully. He'd been too distracted with their mission before to notice that Lupin was hanging back, but now that he consciously registered it, he didn't like it. "I'd prefer it if you walked beside me, rather than hanging back," he said firmly. "You are not my servant, and I have no desire for you to act subservient."

"Actually, I _am_ your servant," Lupin pointed out, although he did move forward a little. "You're the boss. You may not be paying me wages, but I'm part of your staff, and my job is to assist you in any way I can and help make the collection process easier and more efficient. You're the Incarnation; I'm just a soul assigned to work for you. We aren't co-workers or equals," he added, and while Severus listened for any trace of his former anger or bitterness, there was none to be heard in his voice. His tone was matter-of-fact.

But for all that Lupin didn't seem to be bothered, Severus was. "Servant" had very bad associations for him because of the Dark Lord, and he didn't like the thought of souls being obligated to him in some way. Jeeves he accepted because Jeeves served the office of Death, not Severus personally, and moreover he had been in place when Severus arrived. But Lupin was a different matter; they _had_ been coworkers, even if Severus hadn't appreciated it at the time, and something about Lupin's demeanor bothered him greatly. 

It struck him, then, that he _did_ consider Lupin his partner, not his employee. Certainly Lupin had been there from the first soul Severus had collected, including Lupin's own. He had left Lupin behind on collections when he'd been angry, and then again while Lupin had been researching things, but the fact of the matter was that while Severus was Death, Lupin had done as much for the Office as he had. It was unsettling, in a way, to have the person he'd despised suddenly so important to him, but Severus shied away from thinking about it too much. Lupin could frustrate him, certainly, but all in all, he'd grown accustomed to having Lupin around. Lupin somehow filled a gap that Severus hadn't even known existed. Of course, Severus couldn't say as much, even if he wanted to, which he didn't. The easiness between them was gone, and Severus found he missed it. Lupin was acting professionally, and it was grating on Severus in a way that was entirely uncomfortable.

But if Lupin said he was the boss, at least, in this, he could have his way; he was Slytherin enough still to appreciate the irony of it. "Fine," he said, waving a hand. "If you believe yourself my employee, then I prefer that you walk beside me, not hanging back. I don't want to get cramps in my neck from turning around to look at you when I'm talking to you."

"Yes, Severus," Lupin replied obligingly as he quickened his pace enough to catch up and walk beside Severus, although he kept a respectful distance between them.

Severus gave a snort, but he settled in as they made their way toward Nature's home. At first, he didn't see anything ahead of them except an enormous old tree, and then it struck him; of course Nature would live in a tree house! 

"I take it the Green Mother prefers wood to stone construction," Severus commented, raising a brow at Lupin in inquiry.

"Wood is alive," Lupin replied. "Stone isn't. It only makes sense."

"Indeed." Severus nodded, then was quiet as they drew closer. They entered the shade beneath the tree, and for the first time since entering Purgatory, Severus heard the sound of birds chirping. Glancing up, he noticed a myriad of them, of all types and sizes, and the branches of the tree were full of nests as well.

He was about to comment to Lupin about whether she boasted a Phoenix among the lot when there was a sound from ahead of them, and a short, plump woman with green hair, wearing a dress that appeared to be made of leaves stepped from the trunk of the tree. There was something familiar about her, and Severus glanced at Lupin, his eyes wide as recognition struck.

Lupin appeared equally dumbfounded, and he stared at her for a moment before asking hesitantly, "Are you Helga Hufflepuff?"

Smiling, the woman nodded, moving forward with grace despite the generous roundness of her figure. "I am," she replied. "And you are Remus Lupin, late of the Wizarding World... and Death, otherwise known as Severus Snape. I had a feeling you boys would come to call sooner or later."

"Really?" Severus lifted a brow, not surprised that she recognized them, since the Purgatory TV, for all its sardonic, gossipy ways, sometimes conveyed useful information. "Why is that?"

"Curiosity, if nothing else," she replied. "And we are opposites, are we not? I'm life, in all its myriad forms, and you are Death. And I am a Witch, too, although Divination was never my strong point. But I can imagine you might have questions." 

"Death does," Lupin replied, gesturing to Severus as he stepped aside, and he held up the Pom. "I'm only here to take notes," he added, although the brief questioning look he shot Severus made it clear he wasn't really sure why he was there.

Helga smiled at Lupin benignly, and a trifle sadly. "You were young to have died, Remus Lupin. I am sorry for your loss." She turned her attention to Severus once more. "So, what can I help you with?"

"I don't know if the blasted Purgatory TV has reported it, or if you even keep track of such things, but Lupin and I are tracking the remnants of Lord Voldemort's soul," he explained. 

She nodded, her expression hard. "Yes, I am familiar with that horrible, evil man. He violated the laws of both life and death and ended many, many lives before their time." She glanced at Lupin again, then back to Severus. "I knew you were tracking them, but that is Death's domain."

"Yes, it is." Severus frowned, remembering the suffering of the young nun and growing angry again. "However, one soul fragment possessed a young woman, and I had to hurt her to get it out. It caused her a great deal of agony, and I do not care to repeat that experience. Since you have dominion over the living, what would you suggest I do if this happens again?"

A frown marred the Green Mother's features. "That is a very bad thing," she said, shaking her head. "Voldemort sought immortality, but he never would have succeeded, for only the Incarnations are immortal; all other living things must die eventually. Even Nicholas Flamel would have perished, even though he didn't know it. He took care not to anger Fate or tangle her threads; otherwise she would have cut his at once."

"I don't doubt it," Lupin muttered, but a glance showed his expression was bland, revealing nothing of the sentiment behind his remark.

Severus quirked a brow at Lupin, then turned his attention back to Helga. "Can you help me?" he asked.

"Yes, I believe I can," she replied, nodding. She reached up, and surprisingly, one branch of the massive tree obligingly bent down to her hand. She stroked the bark for a moment, then gently broke off a twig about the size of a wand and held it out to Severus. "This is full of the essence of Life; if you touch it to someone who is possessed, it will freeze the dead soul within so that you can remove it. You may only use it once, however; it will be depleted afterward." She smiled apologetically at Lupin. "And you shouldn't touch it, I'm afraid. It might do you harm."

Gingerly Severus reached out and took the twig, tucking it into a pocket - a different one from where the soul bottle resided. "Thank you," he said, then hesitated. "We have several more fragments to collect. What if we must use the twig, and then have nothing for the next fragment?"

She considered that with a thoughtful frown. "I don't like to take more than I must from the tree; it is the World Tree, you know, and to harm it can cause damage to the entire planet. But... I may have something else that will help." She reached up into the tree again, and a large, black spider descended on a glistening thread of silk, alighting upon her hand. "The spider can enter a living person and spin a web around the dead part," she explained. "She may only do it once, unfortunately, but then you will be able to separate the dead soul from the living soul. It will take more time than the twig, so be prepared for a bit of a siege."

"Thank you," Severus replied. He reached out a hand, not flinching as the spider crawled onto his fingers and made its way up his arm, then down his robes to the same pocket as the twig. "I appreciate your help." With that, he gave her a courtly bow, pleased to use the gesture to someone to whom he was truly grateful.

"Incarnations must help each other, Thanatos," she replied, dimpling in pleasure, apparently pleased with his response. Even at a thousand years old, she seemed to like being treated courteously. "We do not exist in a vacuum; we are a unit, a team. It is said that nothing in the universe can stand against the five Incarnations when they act as one, and from what I've seen in my centuries, I have no reason to doubt that."

Lupin bowed as well, and then he looked to Severus, as if awaiting a cue to depart.

Severus nodded to Lupin, catching his apparent meaning. "We will take our leave now, since we still need to find the rest of Voldemort's soul and capture it. If there is anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Don't worry, Severus, I won't," she said, then, still smiling, she stepped back into the trunk of the tree, seeming to merge with the trunk until she disappeared completely.

Turning, Severus started back the way they had come. "That was a surprise," he said, his tone thoughtful. "So all the Incarnations are now Wizards or Witches. I wonder if that happens often."

"That information isn't in the handbook," Lupin replied. "I'd have to look it up. If I were to hazard a guess, though, I'd say the Incarnations are all from the wizarding world because Voldemort poses such a huge threat and has done for quite some time. Things might be different if there was more turmoil among the Muggles while we were at peace."

"That makes sense." Severus fell silent for a moment, considering the set of circumstances which had led to his being here, and wondering how much of fate or Fate or whatever had to do with it. He'd always thought that humans had free will, but this fairly shrieked of premeditation. Which, of course, led right back to Minerva. "Bloody meddling old harpy," he muttered under his breath.

Beside him, Lupin was silent, and a glance showed he was tapping away on the Pom. "You have twenty-two minutes until your next collection," he said when they were drawing near the mansion. "Is there anything you'd like me to work on while you're gone other than locating the next fragment?"

"No, unless there is something you consider of interest yourself," Severus replied. "You are free to research anything that interests you, you know."

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin replied. "I may do that once the task at hand is finished."

"All right." Not knowing what else to say, since Lupin was once again behind his mask of professionalism, Severus gave a grumbling sigh and turned away. "I suppose I'd best be about my job. Let me know when you've found that fragment."

"I will." Lupin nodded as he veered away, headed back to the mansion. "With any luck, I'll have a location by the time you get back."

Severus watched him go, feeling disturbed, and annoyed about being disturbed. He didn't know how Lupin managed to get under his skin, even when he was being polite - or perhaps especially when he was being polite. It hearkened back to the days when Lupin would greet Severus' ranting with equanimity, and as little as Severus liked it then, he liked it less now. Yet there was nothing to be done about it, and with a snarl, he turned away, stomping off toward the building where Mortis was housed. Perhaps time would bring answers he didn't have at the moment; and maybe by then, he'd be willing to acknowledge what his questions actually were.


	11. Chapter 11

Remus tracked down the fifth fragment more quickly than he expected, which left him time to prepare a tea tray so there would be a pot of hot tea and a few biscuits waiting when Severus returned, and then he collected and read some of Death's mail. He knew he probably ought to ask permission before answering any, but he doubted Severus would be interested in dealing with the letters - especially the questions from children - and would just tell Remus to handle it himself.

By the time Severus returned from his round of collections, Remus had written three responses, gently word letters to two children whose parents had died and to one whose puppy had died; he'd been able to access the records on Death's computer and confirm the parents - and the puppy, although the list of deceased "Spot"s numbered in the millions and narrowing it down had been a challenge - had gone to Heaven, which he hoped would be more reassuring coming from the office of Death than it did from a well-meaning auntie. He'd hesitated over how to sign the letters; he wasn't Death, and he wasn't sure whether signing the letters "Death" would count as forgery.

He considered signing the letters "Hermes", remembering Luna had called him by that name, although he still didn't know why. Still, Hermes had been the messenger of the gods, and while Remus wasn't writing letters on behalf of a god, perhaps being an Incarnation's secretary was close enough. He signed the letters "Hermes, on behalf of Death" and sent them off. Then he put in a request at Headquarters for some Death's Letterhead stationery with matching envelopes, and he made a note on his Pom to find out if Death received email as well. After all, he needed something to do while Severus was away or sleeping once they had pieced Voldemort's soul back together.

The thing was, he had begun to like his job quite a lot, and he was good at it, which made him even more motivated to keep it. He was good at organizing Death's schedule, at keeping Death's collections on-schedule, at plugging away at the research others with less patience might find tedious, and keeping track of all the minutia that went along with Death's office. Jeeves ran Death's household, but Remus ran Death's life, and he took pride in knowing what he did helped Death perform his office more quickly and easily. Perhaps Remus was nothing more than a glorified secretary, but the irony that his existence in the afterlife had more purpose and meaning than his actual life had wasn't lost on him.

The problem was, he had no idea if Severus was going to keep him on or not. Severus was still cool and distant with him, and Remus knew he had no one to blame but himself for that. He'd made the mistake of letting his guard down, thinking if anyone in the world would understand why he was angry, felt as if he'd been treated unfairly, and needed to rail and wallow over his fate while he tried to adjust, it would be Severus. He'd let himself get angry and had spoken more freely and honestly than he ever had when he was alive, and as a result, Severus had grown angry with _him_ , shut him out, and threatened to fire him. The only thing he could hope to do now was be the best assistant he could possibly be in hopes of making himself so indispensable that Severus kept him on despite whatever Severus felt for him personally - and keep his big mouth shut in the process. No more outbursts, no more anger, no more unvarnished honesty. He would be calm and professional, and he'd be the best assistant Purgatory had ever seen so that even if Severus didn't want to keep him on, one of the other Incarnations might hire him.

As soon as Severus learned that Remus had found the fifth fragment, he wanted to track it down right away. Fortunately, it was an easier task than the fourth one had been. The fragment had taken up residence in an American politician - a member of Congress, no less - and Remus shuddered to think what sort of havoc the fragment had wreaked in being able to influence a human with political power. Severus used the twig from the Tree of Life to stun the fragment and detach it, leaving the politician none the worse for wear - although probably with a great deal of spin-doctoring ahead of him when he realized what he had done under the influence of evil.

Despite their success, Severus was quiet and pensive throughout the entire trip, and Remus occupied himself by searching for Death's email address, and when he found out there was one indeed, he accessed the account and began filtering the messages according to whether he thought they needed an answer or not. Good assistants didn't pry into their boss' private lives or thoughts, after all, and he doubted Severus wanted to discuss whatever was weighing on his mind with him anyway.

When they returned to the mansion, Remus quietly suggested that Severus use his watch to stop the schedule and take a break, and then he fetched the tea and biscuits. Remus no longer required food or sleep, but Severus still did, and Remus had arranged his schedule to accommodate meals, a good night's sleep, and regular breaks so that Severus wouldn't work himself to exhaustion or burn out. While he was carrying the tea tray to the parlor, he heard the doorbell ring, but answering the door was Jeeves' responsibility, so he ignored it and kept going.

He'd just prepared a cup the way Severus liked it and handed it over when Jeeves arrived to announce the visitor. "War has come to call, sir."

"Hello, Severus!" Regulus called out a cheerful greeting accompanied by a warm smile as he entered the room, and Remus schooled his features into impassivity; he wasn't keen on Regulus Black for some reason, but it wouldn't do to show his dislike. "I hope I haven't come at a bad time."

"No, not at all," Severus replied, setting aside the teacup and rising to his feet, reaching out to clasp Regulus' hand in a warm greeting. "It's good to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure? Did you run out of underdog rebellions to occupy your time?"

Regulus laughed, a rich sound that grated on Remus' nerves, and held Severus' hand longer than was necessary by polite standards of greeting. Remus decided he was damned well not going to offer to get more tea; that was Jeeves' job anyway.

"No, they can manage without me while I catch up with an old friend," Regulus replied. "War gets the occasional respite, just like Death, although I don't have an assistant handling my schedule for me," he added, glancing at Remus, who smiled tightly. "I hear your efficiency rating has already exceeded expectations, especially for your initiation period."

"Lupin has been indispensable," Severus said, gesturing for Regulus to have a seat on the sofa. "It was he who figured out the key to locating the fragments of Voldemort's soul, and he's been the one finding them, leaving me free to do my job."

Remus scarcely had time to process the fact that Severus had complimented his performance before Regulus spoke up.

"Indispensable, eh?" Regulus lounged on the sofa with indolent grace and looked Remus up and down speculatively. "Perhaps I'll have to steal him away. I could use someone with good organizational skills."

"No," Remus blurted out, despite his resolution not to interrupt their conversation, belatedly remembering to add, "Thank you." He glanced at Severus before continuing. "It's just that I'm happy where I am."

And if Severus _did_ sack him, he'd rather work for anyone other than Regulus; he'd go back to a desk job at Headquarters before agreeing to join War's household.

If Regulus took offense at the refusal, he didn't show it. "Well, if you ever get tired of being bossed around by this grumpy old bugger, you know where to find me," he said breezily, giving Severus a playful wink. "At any rate, I wanted to see how you were settling in, Severus, and ask if you were having any luck with catching the soul fragments, but it sounds like you're doing well. How many have you found so far? Have they been giving you any trouble?" he asked, turning his entire attention on Severus as if he was genuinely interested. It was quite obvious he was fixed on Severus, with Remus - and the rest of the world - already forgotten, and Remus watched with narrowed eyes.

There was no mistaking the brief look of surprise on Severus' face in reaction to Remus' claim of being happy, but then he was frowning at Regulus. "I am not a grumpy old bugger," he said grumpily, seeming only slightly mollified by the wink Regulus gave him, and he seemed quite willing to change the subject to that of Voldemort's soul. "We've collected five pieces so far, which leaves two from the Horcruxes, and whatever was left over when his physical body was destroyed. We did have one spot of trouble, since the older fragments seem to be attaching themselves to the souls of the living, but Nature has given us tools to help deal with that." He paused, lifting a brow at Regulus. "I was rather taken aback to find that not only are all the Incarnations from the Wizarding World, and people with whom I am familiar, but that Nature is even one of the Founders. It is far too coincidental to be random chance."

"I suppose it is at that," Regulus replied, and Remus studied him carefully as he spoke. After all, Regulus was a former Slytherin, and he was adept at evasion and manipulation; there was a reason he had been tapped to serve as the Incarnation of War, and Remus had no intention of letting Regulus Black - or anyone else - get away with using or manipulating Severus, who had endured quite enough of that in his old life. "But then, the wizarding world is at a crossroads," he continued, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa so that he was almost touching Severus. "The entire world is, really. If Voldemort's soul isn't recovered and sent to Hell, he'll remain a threat. If he manages to possess someone and regain his strength and power, the world faces a dark future indeed, one even Harry Potter can't save it from this time."

Severus either didn't notice Regulus' arm, or he didn't mind the intrusion into his personal space. He was still frowning, tapping his chin with one long finger as he mulled over Regulus' words. "I think I should cast some protective charms on the soul bottle in which we're keeping the soul fragments, just to be safe. Perhaps Nature could help with that, too - or you, Regulus, if you've managed to keep up with magic and not just rely on brawn and weapons."

"I have," Regulus replied, giving Severus a playfully arch look. "Who do you think helped out the Order in both wars? You lot were outnumbered and out-powered. By rights, you should have been squashed in no time, but I've always had a soft spot for underdogs." He shifted closer to Severus, much to Remus' annoyance, and rested his hand on Severus' shoulder. "I've looked after my people as best I can, and if there's anything I can do to assist you now, I'm happy to do it."

A slight smile curved Severus' lips. "I appreciate that - both your help during the wars, and the offer now. I'll figure out what spell or combination of spells might work best and let you know." At that point, he seemed to notice Regulus' hand on his shoulder, and he lifted a brow. "Or is the assistance you are offering more than simply magical in nature?"

Remus supposed Regulus thought the smile he aimed at Severus was charming, but Remus thought it was the smarmiest thing he'd ever seen.

"I wondered if I would have to crawl into your lap to get your attention," Regulus replied, chuckling softly. "Since you mention it, yes, I'm more than willing to assist you in other, more personal ways, but not as a condition for my help with Voldemort. There are no strings attached to that offer," he added in a more somber tone. "I've always been fond of you, Severus, and I thought it might be nice to see how things develop away from the politics and machinations of Slytherin House and without all the social constraints of the mortal world on us."

 _The nerve!_ Remus fumed silently, not believing Regulus Black for one instant. He'd been the product of his parents' teaching when he was alive, and Remus didn't believe he had changed, especially not _that_ much. Not to mention, he had no sense of timing or he wouldn't push himself on Severus in the middle of an important task. How selfish! Clearly, Severus needed to be extricated before he had to resort to rudeness to rid himself of a nuisance, and Remus knew just how to do it.

Whipping out the Pom, he tapped the screen and pretended to consult Severus' schedule, and then he cleared his throat loudly.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster, which wasn't much since he wasn't sorry at all, "but your allotted break time is over, and I'm sure you don't want to fall behind schedule."

Severus was looking at Regulus with an unreadable expression, but he immediately turned to Remus when he spoke. A flash of something that looked oddly like guilt crossed his face, but it was gone so quickly that Remus couldn't be sure it had been there at all. "Already?" he asked, then turned back to Regulus. "I'm sorry, my friend, but we'll have to continue this at another time. Dealing with Voldemort hasn't bought us any forgiveness from normal duties, unfortunately, and I don't wish to risk a bad rating during my probationary period."

Regulus turned to look at Remus, one eyebrow raised, and Remus got the distinct impression that he wasn't fooled by the ruse. Remus maintained a straight face, giving away nothing, and at last, Regulus rose to his feet. "We'll definitely continue this conversation," he said, seeming to speak as much to Remus as to Severus. "But if you must get back to work, I won't keep you. I want you to keep a high rating so you'll be here a long time."

Severus rose as well, flowing gracefully to his feet. He reached out to touch Regulus' shoulder apologetically. "I'm doing my best," he said, then stepped back. "I'll let you know when we retrieve the next fragment, and you might want to keep an eye out for any sudden, unexpected trouble on your front. Given that the last fragment was in a politician, I wouldn't be surprised if the remaining soul fragments are seeking out suitable hosts, and some of them might be people who fall within your domain."

"If I find anything suspicious, I'll let you know," Regulus replied, and then he smiled and squeezed Severus' shoulder briefly before turning to the door. "Good luck," he said, waving. "Don't worry, I'll show myself out."

Severus watched Regulus leave, then turned to look at the Death Watch. "I suppose we should be on our way for that pick up," he said, then raised his eyes to Remus. "Unless you are staying here to look for the next soul fragment."

Remus went still as he met Severus' gaze. It was the first time since their quarrel that Severus had invited him to go along on a routine collection, and combined with the fact that Severus had called him "indispensable", he had hope that he was proving his worth after all. Duty urged him to stay and resume looking for the next fragment, but he was aware of the significance of Severus' offer, and things were so tenuous, he didn't know how long it would be before Severus invited him again if he said no.

"No, I'll go with you," he said, stuffing the Pom back into his pocket. "I can work on tracking the fragment while you're asleep."

Severus nodded as though pleased. "Let's go, then. I have hopes that we can get the last of Voldemort's soul fragments collected in the next few days. It's only a week until my one month probationary period is over. Hopefully I've done well enough that they will let me keep the position and not simply let me die."

"The reports on the telly have been favorable," Remus replied. "I've been streaming them on the Pom to make sure your performance is on the right track, and everything sounds pretty good so far. I wouldn't worry. You're doing your job fairly, and you've kept up with your schedule even while undertaking a separate task. They've got nothing to fault you for." And he intended to keep it that way; he would do everything in his power to keep Severus' rating high.

"Hmmm... that doesn't necessarily mean I won't do something to annoy them and wipe all that out," Severus replied, giving a snort of annoyance. "I still don't trust this place or our situation, but I also don't see any alternative to the rules we've been given. Yet." He smiled, a very predatory expression. "Which doesn't mean I won't find one. Especially if I do find out that we've been manipulated."

It was on the tip of Remus' tongue to correct Severus, since there was little to no chance that Remus had been manipulated, his situation was nothing like Severus', and he hadn't been given any rules other than "Work for Death", but he didn't want to risk another quarrel. It wasn't that he objected to Severus using "we"; he simply felt it was inaccurate. He wasn't a teammate; he was a servant, and no amount of denial on Severus' part about the disparity of their positions would change the fact that one of them was alive, powerful, and in control, and the other was... not.

Aloud, all he said was, "You can think about breaking the rules after you've collected Voldemort's soul, but it probably isn't a good idea to get yourself thrown out before then. Your replacement might not understand the importance of getting rid of him for good."

"Exactly," Severus agreed. He glanced at the Death Watch again, then turned for the door. "I'll summon Mortis, unless you can do it from the infernal hurdy-gurdy. I'm beginning to wonder if that blasted thing couldn't do the job of both of us."

"Thestral, carpet, or car?" Remus asked, pulling out the Pom and activating the connection to Mortis before addressing Severus' question. "It's a handy device, but it can't collect souls, so it couldn't replace you."

"Not yet, give it time," Severus murmured. "Carpet, I suppose, at least to start. And if you have the client's name, could you please pull up the history? We can review it on the way to save time."

Remus sent the request for Mortis to meet them out front in carpet form, and then he nodded. "Yes, Severus," he said, already at work pulling up the information Severus had requested with swift efficiency. The Pom might not be able to replace Severus, but _Remus_ could be replaced by anyone who could operate the "hurdy-gurdy", as Severus called it. He just had to make sure he remained the best candidate for the job so that didn't happen.

"Thank you." Severus said the words quietly, but with obvious sincerity, before turning away and stalking toward the door, plucking his folding Scythe from the umbrella stand. Jeeves was already at the front door, apparently having some instinct for his job - and no doubt wanting to be invaluable as well - and he opened it so that Severus could step outside into the eternal Purgatory day.


	12. Chapter 12

"Wonderful. What's next, the Devil himself?"

Severus' voice was full of sarcasm as he looked at the soul bottle, which now held six pieces of the former Dark Lord's soul. Lupin had pinpointed the sixth, and they'd been able to collect it, albeit with a bit more difficulty than the previous fragment. It hadn't helped that the fragment was hiding in the body of a convicted serial killer in a horrific Mexican prison, and it was even worse in a way that the evil of the host made it nearly impossible to distinguish between the tainted bit of Voldemort and the disgusting soul of the host. 

He'd been tempted to simply take the soul of the murderer along with Voldemort's, since he highly doubted that anyone would miss it or that the man wasn't just as doomed for Hell as the Dark Lord had been, but Lupin had looked at him disapprovingly and told him that the man still had a chance to save his soul. It was true enough, but Severus muttered about that being as likely as Potter suddenly sprouting butterfly wings and snogging Draco Malfoy. He'd pulled out the spider Nature had given him and sent it toward the murderer, hoping that it would do as Nature said and separate out the souls. At least he had the satisfaction of watching, since it was obvious from the screams of the host that the process was not painless, and when Lupin raised a brow at his smirk, he only replied that he hoped this would save the murderer's soul by showing him just how awful Hell would be.

When the collection was over, they'd returned to Purgatory, and now Severus sat in contemplation of their work to date, a roiling mass of what looked like black sludge at the bottom of the bottle. It had struck him that each host had become more evil than the last, and now he had grave concerns about exactly what they would face the next time - and they had used up the items Nature had given them.

Sighing, he put the bottle away and leaned back on the sofa. It was the same one he and Regulus had occupied during Regulus' visit, which brought him back to a different disturbing subject. Regulus had made it obvious that he would be more than happy to engage in a physical relationship if Severus was willing; the problem was, Severus didn't know if he was or not.

It shouldn't be a difficult choice, he thought, frowning and pinching the bridge of his nose. Regulus was an old friend, and Merlin knew he was good looking enough. They hadn't had that kind of relationship when they'd been younger, but that didn't preclude them having one now. Severus had never been a touchy-feely person, preferring not to have people in his personal space, but ever since coming to Purgatory and having the possibility of living touch diminished, he found he was suddenly wondering what he was missing. Given how he reacted when Lupin touched him, he had to wonder if the touch of another living person would be even more intense, now that he was aware of what he couldn't have.

Yet for all the appeal of touching and being touched, of having a lover, he had to admit he didn't want Regulus. 

Severus wasn't inexperienced, but neither had he indulged often. Not from lack of opportunity; he had no illusions about his looks, but he had had enough offers among the Death Eaters. But the problem was letting down his guard enough to enjoy sex, to feel that he could let himself go without worrying about whether he was being manipulated or if his lover was plotting to stab him in the back. For a while in his youth, he'd tried one night stands with Muggles, but that hadn't been satisfying, either, and in the last ten years or so, he'd basically given up on sex entirely. It hadn't been worth the effort.

That left the problem of how to turn down Regulus or even if he _should_ turn him down. The Slytherin part of him thought that a little tit for tat might be called for if Regulus were helping him, but he knew he was cynical. With sardonic amusement, he wondered if he should ask Lupin if the damned hurdy-gurdy had the answer for him. It certainly seemed to know everything else. It was out of the question, though, especially since he'd felt an inexplicable flash of guilt when he had, for a brief moment, considered taking Regulus up on his offer. Lupin wasn't his spouse or his guardian, and Severus didn't have to care about whether he approved or not. Yet he did care, which annoyed him, because not only was Lupin dead, Lupin didn't even _like_ him. He was absolutely stupid for feeling, in that one moment, as though he were considering adultery or something.

Sighing, Severus scrubbed at his face. As hard as his life had been, at least it had been familiar. In a way, it would be easier if he were still as oblivious to his physical desires now as he had been when he could have done something about them.

As if summoned by the broody nature of his thoughts, Lupin entered the room and stopped a safe distance from the sofa, regarding Severus with an expression that was half-hopeful and half-hesitant, as if he had something to divulge, but he wasn't certain how Severus would react to it.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said at last, "but I wanted to ask a favor. Just a small one. It won't interfere with your job."

Opening his eyes, Severus looked at Lupin, quelling the little twinge he felt. It was a hopeless attraction, after all, and he'd be better off ignoring it. That didn't mean he had to be rude, however, and Lupin _was_ doing an excellent job. If he wanted a favor, the least Severus could do was grant it. 

"Of course," he said, sitting up and raising an inquiring brow. "You've earned it. What do you need?"

"It's not a need, really," Lupin replied, adjusting his glasses before shoving his hands into the pockets of his ratty cardigan. "It's just that your next collection is in London, and I've scheduled a short break for you afterward. I thought perhaps you could drop me off at Andromeda's flat and pick me up before your next collection. I'd like to see Teddy."

Severus was surprised, but he didn't express it. "All right," he replied easily. "That's simple enough. I'll wander around London; it will no doubt be a different perspective than when I last visited. How long do we have?"

Lupin consulted the Pom before responding. "You have fifteen minutes until the collection," he said. "I scheduled an hour-long break for you, although if you get bored, you can come back and get me whenever you're ready. I only want to see Teddy and make certain he's all right. There isn't much I can do with him, after all, so you wouldn't be interrupting."

"All right," Severus said, rising to his feet. He'd wondered if Lupin would ever want to see his child, especially after the bitter things he'd said weeks ago about being on the outside, but Severus wasn't going to gainsay him. "If you'd like, I can drop you off before the collection, if you'd prefer not to have come from one directly to your son."

"That might be best." Lupin nodded and lifted the Pom, already tapping on the screen. "I can brief you on your client on the way, so you'll have all the information you need before you get there. Unless you think you might need me for something?" he asked, glancing up at Severus questioningly.

Severus shook his head. "No, I can't think of anything. If it's a normal client, it shouldn't be too difficult," he replied. In short order, they were on Mortis, Remus briefing him on the client, and then directing him to Andromeda Tonks' flat in London. Mortis had shifted to his limousine form again, and they pulled up in front of the building, Mortis' engine throbbing with subdued power.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," Severus said, pointing at the Death Watch. "Although if you want more time, I won't begrudge it. I know you don't need breaks, but you've not had one in weeks. Physical exhaustion isn't the same thing as mental exhaustion. Trust me, I know."

"Thank you," Lupin replied with a slight smile, although he shook his head as well, "but I don't need breaks because I don't get tired." He paused, and then he added, "Or cranky. Not anymore, at least."

Severus snorted, lifting a brow at Remus. "Is that an observation, Lupin?" he drawled, but he didn't hold back the fact that he was amused rather than offended.

"Only about myself," Lupin replied evenly. "I've dealt with my anger and put it behind me."

"That's good," Severus said, irrationally disappointed that Lupin _hadn't_ been teasing him. "Well, then, I should go. I hope your visit with your son goes well."

"Thank you." Lupin sounded a little apprehensive and a little absent, his attention already focused on the building as he climbed out of Mortis, his body turning transparent as soon as his feet hit the pavement. "Like I said, you can pick me up early if you like," he added, pausing a moment before giving Severus a little wave. Then he turned and drifted toward the building, going through the wall and disappearing from sight.

Severus watched him go, not knowing how long he sat there watching until the Death Watch beeped imperiously at him. Then he gave a grumbling sigh and headed off to the collection. Afterward he wandered aimlessly around London, unable to feel as though he were part of the crowd. He didn't really see anything, his thoughts turned inward, but a brightly lit display practically jumped out at him, drawing his attention. It was a toy store, and the wild colors threatened to make his eyes bleed, but he noticed something in the corner, amidst a pile of stuffed animals. Among the bears and dogs and cats and even, bizarrely, a pink elephant, there was a small wolf cub, its fur tawny with a grey undercoat. Before he knew what he was doing, he was entering the store, unable to resist the impulse to buy it.

When the time came to pay, he realized, to his dismay, that he hadn't thought about the matter of money. He put a hand in his robe - apparently the Muggles saw him dressed in something unremarkable - about to comment that he must have forgotten his money, when his hand closed on a square of leather in a pocket he'd not noticed before. Pulling it out, he saw that it contained Muggle money; not only British pounds, but American dollars and some other, brightly colored bills he couldn't immediately identify. He didn't question his luck, suspecting that the former holder of the office must have kept an emergency supply handy, and silently thanked him for his foresight.

Minutes later, he was in Mortis, a shopping bag on the seat next to him, and they pulled up at the same place where they'd dropped Lupin off. Lupin wasn't waiting outside, and Severus drew in a deep breath before alighting from Mortis, taking the bag with him. It didn't take much effort to look on the post boxes and find out which flat belonged to Lupin's former mother-in-law, and he didn't give himself time to consider what he was doing. He mounted the steps, then rapped on the correct door, keeping his hood pulled low so as not to startle Andromeda if he could help it.

A moment later, Andromeda Tonks opened the door, appearing momentarily puzzled until her gaze focused on him, and then her eyes widened in alarm tinged with fear. "No..."

"I'm not here for you or the child," Severus said quickly. "Lupin... works for me. I have simply come to collect him and to deliver something he requested." He held out the bag, not wanting to know how ridiculous it looked for Death to be holding a cheerfully colored bag with a toy soldier on it.

Andromeda stared at the incongruous sight blankly, but then she shook her head as if to clear it, visibly relieved as it sank in that Death wasn't there to collect her or her grandson. "He's in the nursery with Teddy," she said as she accepted the bag. "I'll show you the way."

With that, she turned and led the way to the nursery, and Severus could hear Lupin's voice as they walked down the corridor and reached the doorway. A peek inside the room revealed Lupin hovering beside Teddy's crib; lifting his hand, he was able to move the mobile suspended above the crib, making the stars, moons, and planets jiggle, and Teddy squealed with delight.

"I don't know how often I'll be able to visit," he said softly, leaning over, and in the crib, Teddy appeared to turn his attention away from the mobile and toward Lupin, as if listening intently. "But I'll come back when I can, all right? I can't be here to hold you and help you grow up, but I'll always love you."

Severus felt like an intruder, and he kept back, not wanting the child to see him. It wasn't just the mask he wore; it simply didn't seem right for the shadow of Death to touch Lupin's son. He looked at Andromeda. "Go on, then, and give it to him," he said. "Merlin knows the child has little enough of his father to cherish any longer."

"Very true," Andromeda agreed, her expression rueful and a little sad. She opened the bag and pulled out the toy wolf, reading the tag as she approached the crib. "'From Daddy'. Look, Teddy," she cooed, holding up the wolf for Teddy to see before lowering it enough that he could grab it. "Daddy brought you a present."

Gurgling happily, Teddy grabbed the wolf and began gumming its ear, and Lupin turned to look at Severus with questioning surprise, but he didn't say anything - yet. No doubt he was holding his tongue in front of Andromeda, who straightened and smiled at him.

"He likes it. That was very thoughtful of you, Remus," she said. "I'm glad he'll have something that I can tell him was from you."

"So am I," Lupin replied, although he was looking at Severus rather than Andromeda when he spoke.

Severus was glad for his mask, knowing that Lupin couldn't see his face. "If you'd like some more time, I'll go," he said. "I can come back after... an errand. But after that, I'm afraid we have things to do, and I need your help."

"No, it's all right." Lupin turned back to the crib and reached out to caress Teddy's cheek, and then he floated backward, moving away from the crib without taking his eyes off his son.

"Remus... I have to ask..." Andromeda bit her lip. "Nymphadora. Have you...? I mean, does she have a message for me?" Her voice cracked slightly.

"I'm sorry." Lupin looked at her regretfully. "We went to different places, so I haven't seen her. She went to Heaven," he explained quickly when Andromeda looked alarmed. "I work in Purgatory. For Death," he added. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you about that beforehand."

"It's all right." She smiled somewhat shakily. "Come back whenever you like."

"Thank you." Lupin's smile was brief but genuine, and then he turned and moved toward Severus. "I'm ready to go," he said.

"All right." Severus turned and headed back toward the door of the flat, certain that Andromeda Tonks would have no desire for him to linger in her home - although he was grimly amused to think she had welcomed Death more warmly than she would have welcomed Severus Snape. They descended the stairs and made it back to Mortis, where Severus slipped behind the wheel, then made a show of checking his watch for the next client.

Lupin pulled up the next client's information and showed it to Severus, but he remained silent until they were well underway to their destination.

"Thank you," he said at last, his voice low and husky. "I wanted to buy him toys and feed him and change his diapers and have my clothes covered in baby vomit. I wanted all of it, and I had it barely over two weeks. He won't remember me, and having a ghost for a father..." He trailed off and shook his head, pressing his lips together as if to keep himself from rambling further, although nothing could hide the deep sadness in his eyes. "Anyway, I appreciate what you did for Teddy far more than I can ever express or repay," he continued softly, fiddling with the Pom as he spoke as if to have something to do with his hands. "It means a lot to me even if Teddy doesn't understand anything yet."

"It was no problem; as you said, you would have done it if you could have," Severus replied easily, although he felt a sense of warmth at knowing Lupin appreciated his simple gesture. "I simply provided the hands through which you accomplished it. If there is anything else you would like for me to fetch for him, let me know. It seems the former Death had acquired currency, so we have at least some limited resource with which to purchase things." He didn't want to get into another argument with Lupin, considering this slight progress, so he held his tongue about the fact that having a ghost father who obviously loved him might be better for the child than having no father at all. 

"Not now," Lupin replied, leaning his head back against the seat with a quiet sigh. "Andromeda provides everything he could need or want, and I can't think of anything useful to give him. Perhaps it's best to wait until he's older and will remember the gesture."

"All right," Severus said. It wasn't as though he were going to force Lupin into doing something he didn't want to do. He glanced at the Death Watch, unable to think of anything to say that would be of any help. "We have thirty minutes until the next collection. Would you like me to drop you in Purgatory, or do you want to go with me?"

"I'll go along, if you don't mind. There isn't any point in wasting travel time with an unnecessary detour." Lupin immediately began fiddling with the Pom again, appearing to access the client's entry in the database. He fell silent again as he worked, but he glanced sidelong at Severus a couple of times, seeming to have something on his mind, and at last, he came out with it. "Why did you do it?" he asked.

The question wasn't unexpected, but Severus was silent for a moment as he tried to formulate an answer. Finally he gave up, since everything he could come up with seemed idiotic, and he decided to just go with the truth. "I don't know," he said at last, giving a slight shrug. "It just seemed like the right thing to do - like you would have bought it if you'd seen it, so I did instead."

"You're right. I would have bought it, if I could have," Lupin agreed, inclining his head as if to acknowledge Severus' point, and then he fell silent for another long moment before adding, "I appreciate it. I was just surprised."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment, not wanting to admit to himself that he was glad to have pleased Lupin. "It was a small enough thing to do, after the way you've worked to make my job easier." Then he snorted, giving Lupin a haughty look, although he hoped Lupin could tell he was joking. "Unlike you, however, I have no wish to be covered in baby vomit. It would somehow clash with the dignity of my office, for Death to be spat up upon!"

Lupin's eyebrows climbed at that, his expression seeming to say he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing, and then he smiled slightly. "Yes, I suppose it might tarnish the intimidating image of Death to be spat up or drooled on."

"Indeed. The other Incarnations might point and laugh, and that would be intolerable," Severus replied, sniffing disdainfully. "There might suddenly be several vacant Offices to fill, and I'm certain Purgatory Headquarters would be complaining on the telly about how I disturbed their staffing quotas for the next hundred years."

"Somehow I doubt War would point and laugh," Lupin replied. "He would probably find something charming to say about it."

"Actually he'd probably be evilly amused, which would be worse." Severus shook his head, wondering at Lupin's antipathy toward Regulus. No doubt it was because of the damned Mutt, who had been Lupin's friend and who had probably poisoned Lupin's mind against Regulus. "Charm was the Black stock in trade, was it not?"

"It was, yes, but charm only takes one so far," Lupin said tersely, folding his arms across his chest. "Charm can't offset one's actions forever. Sooner or later, even charming Blacks must be held accountable for what they've done."

Severus lifted a brow at that. "I'm not certain what Regulus ever did to you, if anything," he said. "But he basically sacrificed his life to take out a Horcrux, so I would think that would make up for becoming a Death Eater." He drew in a deep breath and looked down at his hands in his lap. "Believe me, Regulus never did the things that I did. He never cost people their lives."

Lupin's jaw tightened at that, and he turned his attention out the window. "I wasn't referring to Regulus alone. I was referring to Sirius as well."

"The Mutt?" Severus was so surprised at that he couldn't keep himself from blurting that out. Then he shook his head. "Black was an idiot, and his idiocy killed him. The only surprise was that it didn't happen sooner."

"He was rash, and he rarely stopped to think about the consequences of his actions or their potential effect on people." Lupin sighed and scrubbed his face with one hand. "Whether you believe it or not, I had nothing to do with the so-called prank he pulled on you," he said, sounding weary. "That event damaged our friendship almost beyond repair. It was never the same afterward. As I said, charm only gets you so far, and even I have my limits."

If Severus had been surprised before, he was shocked at that information. But it made sense, in an odd way. It was certain that Black and Potter hadn't trusted Lupin, or else they wouldn't have made Pettigrew the secret keeper. No doubt if things had been as chummy between them as he'd thought, they would have realized that Lupin would have been a far better candidate. "He used you," Severus said finally, his tone flat. "I know the feeling, believe me."

"I'm sure you do," Lupin replied matter-of-factly, and then he drew in a deep breath and picked up the Pom. "At any rate, you have a client to collect in a matter of minutes."

It seemed that Lupin was done with the discussion, and Severus felt frustrated again. He'd thought that perhaps they had moved past the fight, but apparently not. Still, if Lupin could take refuge in professionalism, so could he.

"Mortis, take us in, please," he said, keeping his tone level. He'd tried with Lupin, even buying a ridiculous toy for his child, but apparently Lupin wanted nothing more than an employer-employee relationship. Since that was the case, that was what Severus would give him, and he clenched his jaw and forced down any desire for something different. 

Mortis pulled up to a small cottage, and Severus got out, striding toward it briskly. He wanted to get this over and get back to Purgatory as quickly as possible. Perhaps he'd even go see Regulus - since Regulus actually seemed to enjoy his company. If he wasn't exactly attracted to Regulus now, perhaps it was something he could work on.

Fortunately the client in question was an easy one - a simple, vain woman who had electrocuted herself by dropping a blow-dryer in the bath. Severus collected her soul and sorted it, finding it in balance, and he decided to take it back to Purgatory, rather than using his discretion. She wasn't evil, but after a life of self-obsession, perhaps an eternity of service would be a fitting reward.

He had thought the conversation was over, but once they returned to Mortis and were headed back to Purgatory, Lupin spoke up again, sounding somewhat hesitant.

"If I've said or done something to annoy you again, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to be an irritant; I'm trying to do my job to the best of my abilities, that's all."

"Yes, I know," Severus said. He pulled back his hood and turned to look at Lupin. "You do irritate me at times, yes. Mostly because I feel as though I have tried to do things to show you that I have some regard for your feelings and your plight, and you invariably end up shutting me out and taking refuge in being my 'employee'. It's your choice, of course. I will stop pushing where I am obviously unwelcome. No one has ever accused me of being charming, so I suppose I don't have to worry about having a respite in being held accountable for my actions."

Lupin stared at him visibly befuddled. "But I thought that was what you wanted," he said. "The last time I said anything about my feelings, you threatened to fire me and gave me the cold shoulder for days. I know I was wrong to have taken out my frustration on you, and I sincerely meant my apology, but I thought if anyone would understand why I was angry and bitter, it would be you. I've tried to keep things on a strictly professional level since then so nothing like that would happen again."

"I _did_ understand why you were angry and bitter," Severus replied, rolling his eyes. "I tried to offer practical suggestions to assist you; believe me, if I hadn't understood, I would have bloody well told you to shut up and go drown in your own self-pity elsewhere instead of attempting to find a way to help you through it! The only way I have ever been able to deal with my own fury is through action, even though that has sometimes gotten me into worse situations. But when I feel that I have been treated unfairly, my first instinct is always to find a way to _do_ something in response." He stopped, drawing in a deep breath, his lips twisting. "That was why I told the Slytherins you were a werewolf. I felt manipulated, and I was furious, and since I couldn't get at Black, I lashed out at you. But that is ancient history at this point; you made it obvious that nothing I suggested made the slightest difference, and then you lashed out at me, so I withdrew. Would you rather I had screamed at you?"

"I'm sorry," Lupin replied in a quiet voice. "I wasn't deliberately dismissing you or your suggestions. I was just venting. I suppose I wasn't ready to hear any practical suggestions at that point. There were some suggestions I couldn't take, too, but you know that now." He shrugged slightly and looked away. "I was wrong to lash out at you. I apologized for that, and I meant it. I appreciate that you were trying to help, and I wasn't intentionally trivializing that. I'm not terribly adept at dealing with angry outbursts, that's all. I've rarely ever let myself have them, and now we know why."

"I had accepted your apology and tried to move beyond it," Severus replied, sighing and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Lupin could get under his skin worse than anyone he'd ever known, and he simply didn't know what to do about it - or what he _could_ do, considering that anything beyond a professional relationship was looking more and more out of the question. Perhaps it _would_ be better to keep things professional, but at this point, Severus was tired and feeling weary of dealing with a situation with so many conflicting and confusing emotional levels. "I thought I had done everything I could to show that I was attempting to be understanding, even supportive. Apparently I am as incompetent at handling being nice as you are at handling being angry. Perhaps being strictly professional would be the best course after all."

"You aren't incompetent," Lupin replied, glancing sidelong at him. "Buying a toy for a baby you'd never met was a very nice thing to do. I suppose the problem is that I assumed you wanted things to be professional, and I wanted to keep my job, so I focused on being a good assistant. I suppose I must have misread the signals."

Severus shrugged. "Perhaps," he said tiredly. "You can keep your job; you don't have to worry about that. I'll even put it in writing if you like."

"No, that won't be necessary. I trust your word." Lupin paused, seeming hesitant, and then he took a deep breath as if to brace himself before speaking again. "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were trying to be understanding. All the wallowing I've done seems to have blindered me, but... perhaps we could try again?"

Severus looked at him, wondering if he felt like dealing with it any longer. But it seemed as though the air was clear at last, and so he sighed. "All right," he replied, then gave a small huff. "I went into a toy shop, you know. I don't go into toy shops for just anyone!"

"I'm fully appreciative of your tremendous sacrifice," Lupin replied, smiling slightly.

"You should be," Severus grumbled, but he felt better than he had earlier. They reached the Death Mansion, and Severus got out of Mortis, heading toward the front door. "I suppose we should see about the last bits of Voldemort now. The sooner we're finished, the better I will like it."

"I'll get started tracking the next fragment right away," Lupin promised as he followed Severus into the mansion.

Before they got far into the entrance hall, however, Jeeves appeared, looking disgruntled. "You have a visitor, sir," he announced stiffly. "War is awaiting you in the parlor. I have already provided him with tea as per his insistence."

Surprised, Severus stopped abruptly. He still wasn't sure what to do about Regulus and his professed interest, but perhaps since the situation with Lupin had sorted itself out, the one with Regulus would as well. There was no rush, anyway, was there? They were friends, and if at some point, it developed into something more, then it did - and if not, then not. "Of course, I'll join him," he said finally, then looked at Lupin. "Are you coming, too? Or did you wish to work in peace?"

"I'll join you," Lupin replied.

As if he'd been drawn by the sound of their voices, Regulus appeared, and he smiled widely at Severus, lifting a cup of tea in silent salute. "Welcome back! I was beginning to think you were going to work all night," he said as he approached Severus, leaning in to brush a swift kiss to Severus' cheek and pulling back before Severus could react.

Severus was surprised by the gesture, but he recovered quickly. The warm brush of Regulus' lips had been pleasant, he had to admit, even if it didn't make his toes curl. "No, not all night, fortunately," he replied, then gestured back toward the library. "Why don't we go have a seat? Is this a social call, or did you find out anything about the soul fragments?"

"Mostly a social call," Regulus replied as he accompanied Severus to the library, walking close enough to let his arm brush against Severus'. "But I've seen some suspicious rumblings in South America you might get your little Miss Gooch to look into as a possibility."

"I'll do that," Lupin replied with a tone that managed to combine courtesy with cold stoniness.

"There is no need to be rude or condescending to Lupin, Regulus," Severus chastised him, wondering at his desire to bristle at his friend for the implied insult. "He is excellent at his job. Or is it simply the practice of War to be combative?"

"My apologies, Severus," Regulus replied smoothly, hesitating a moment before glancing back and adding, "Lupin. It is difficult to put aside the Office during off-hours sometimes." He smiled, turning up the charm. "Unfortunately, that's the only lead I can offer right now, but I thought it might be worth investigation. Not to mention, it provided an excuse for me to visit you again, since our conversation was cut short the last time."

Severus was glad that Regulus had apologized, but he doubted that his friend and Lupin would ever get along. "Thank you for the lead," he said, taking a seat on the sofa and giving a weary sigh. "Hopefully we can track down and capture the last bits soon. I'm eager to have this over with. We're quite busy enough with the normal duties without this on top of everything - not to mention that the chaos the remaining fragments could cause is simply not to be borne."

Regulus sat down next to Severus and put aside his tea, shifting to face Severus and watching him with avid interest. "You're doing wonderfully," he said, giving Severus an encouraging smile. "I'm sure you'll find the rest soon, and then it'll be over. Perhaps then you'll have more time for catching up with old friends," he added archly.

Lupin remained standing off to one side, seemingly focused on the Pom, his expression impassive.

"Perhaps," Severus replied. He glanced over at Lupin, who seemed totally uninterested in their conversation, and he suppressed a sigh. Turning his attention back to Regulus, he gave a tired smile. "I'm doing my best, and as I've said, Lupin is invaluable. How in the world do you manage without an assistant, especially at first? Weren't you overwhelmed with all of it?"

"At first, yes," Regulus replied, his expression growing more somber, and he stretched out his arm to touch Severus' shoulder lightly. "I had a difficult time reconciling myself to my Office, because after what I had experienced, I hated war. I took the Office because I thought I could put an end to war altogether, but I quickly learned that was impossible. The best I can do is try to control the chaos and help nudge things toward the side of Good rather than Evil. I also learned I don't have to oversee every conflict personally. There are a few minor Incarnations whom I can delegate to, which helps."

"I would imagine," Severus replied, aware of Regulus' arm against his shoulders. He didn't shrug Regulus away, although the gesture made him feel a bit pensive. "War is terrible, and it has cost far too much. But I suppose human nature will prevent us from ever having a lasting peace. There are always those who wish to subjugate others or who lust for power." He smiled grimly. "If any of them die in balance, I can assure you I will use my discretion to make certain they pay."

"See? This is why I think War and Death could make a formidable team," Regulus said, squeezing Severus' shoulder lightly. "I'm certainly willing to cooperate in any way you like."

From behind them came a sound that could have been a cough or a snort, but Severus couldn't quite tell which.

"Perhaps," Severus replied quietly. He still wasn't ready to commit one way or the other, and he didn't think it would do Regulus any harm to wait. "Do Incarnations often... cooperate? Somehow I can't imagine you and McGonagall working quite so closely together."

"We do when the need arises." Regulus smiled and kept his hand on Severus' shoulder. "None of us can remain independent of the others. Our Offices overlap and work together to keep the world functioning reasonably well. Mortals have free will, of course, which accounts for the biggest messes we have to clean up, and sometimes it takes teamwork." His smile widened, and his expression turned a little sheepish. "Besides, I've grown fond of the starchy old biddy," he admitted. "It's easier to appreciate her abilities without arbitrary House alignments coloring our interaction."

Raising a brow, Severus smirked. "I rather meant the sort of cooperation you seemed to be offering me."

Regulus' pale eyes widened, and he shook his head vehemently. "Dear Merlin, no!" he exclaimed. "I'm fond of her, but not that fond. Besides, my preferences run exclusively to men."

"Ah," Severus replied, amused at his friend's reaction. "I suppose that means I don't have to ask about Hufflepuff, then." He paused as it occurred to him that Regulus was far more familiar with the workings of Purgatory and that he might be able to answer explain something that Severus had nearly forgotten. "Who is Hermes? I heard the name mentioned, but I didn't know who or what that was supposed to be."

"Hermes?" Regulus frowned slightly, lost in thought for a moment before a thought seemed to occur to him. "Oh, now I remember: it's a minor Incarnation, rather like Pestilence and Famine. The position has been vacant since before I became War, though, so you might want to ask Fate or Nature if they remember anyone holding the Office. If I remember correctly, Hermes is affiliated with your Office in some way."

"Really." Severus pondered that, unable to keep from glancing over at Lupin. "I'll have to do that. Thanks for the information."

"Any time." Regulus smiled and stroked Severus' shoulder lightly with his fingertips, tilting his head as he regarded Severus questioningly. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

The stroking made Severus shiver; it was the most intimate caress he'd received in years, and it reminded him again of the things he was missing. Suddenly the frustration was too much, and he leaned in, capturing Regulus' lips in a brief, firm kiss. With a moan that sounded decidedly happy and enthusiastic, Regulus tightened his arm around Severus and responded to the kiss eagerly, leaning closer and silently inviting Severus back for more.

Behind them, Lupin cleared his throat. "I'll just give you some privacy," he said.

"Good idea," Regulus murmured, gazing at Severus with obvious pleasure in his eyes.

Severus looked back at Regulus somberly. The kiss had been pleasant, but it hadn't set off any sparks, and he was feeling guilty again. He waited until Lupin left, then sighed quietly. "Regulus... I don't know if I can do this."

The light of pleasure in Regulus' eyes dimmed, and he sat back, putting some distance between them. "I'm about to get the 'I like you as a friend, but...' speech, aren't I," he said, disappointment lacing his voice.

Running a hand over his forehead, Severus grimaced. "It's not you, it's me," he replied wearily. "You are attractive, and I'm glad to see you, to know that you are alive and well. But I've been alone for a very long time, and it's difficult for me to... let go." It was true, although it was also more complicated than he could explain. "It isn't a matter of trust or liking or anything like that. By all rights, a relationship with you, sexual or otherwise, should be exactly what I want and need. Perhaps I'm still adjusting, but right now I'm not feeling right about it, and I won't use you or be unfair to you. You deserve better than that, especially because I _do_ like you."

"Well, I appreciate your honesty." Regulus smiled wryly as he withdrew his arm. "Perhaps I moved too quickly, but I've been alone for a very long time, too, and when you arrived, it was like an answer to a prayer. I've always carried a little torch for you, to be honest, but I won't push. If you change your mind, all you have to do is let me know."

It was a relief that Regulus was being so agreeable, and Severus gave him a grateful look. "Thank you, I will," he replied. "I'm flattered, I really am, and I wish.. I wish I did feel that way now, because it would be pleasant to have a lover and companion. If you'd like, we can still spend time together. Perhaps I just need a chance to finish off Voldemort and truly feel as though the past is done."

"Letting go of your old life is the best thing you can do to help yourself adjust," Regulus said with a firm nod. "I'm still willing to help you if and when I can, and I would like to spend time with you, even if you aren't interested in anything more than friendship. It's enough to have the familiar face of an old friend around."

"Thank you," Severus replied. "You are a better friend than I probably deserve. I've not had a lot of friends since your dea... since you left. No one that I really trusted at least, not even Albus. It would be a relief just to be with someone around whom I don't have to guard my back or my tongue. I know you said the Incarnations rely on each other, but to be honest, the only one I would put any real faith in is you."

Regulus smiled at that, a genuine smile although disappointment still lingered in his eyes. "You needn't worry," he said, reaching out as if to touch Severus again, but obviously thinking better of it. "I don't play the old games anymore. Petty machinations like that seem rather trivial when you become responsible for managing the warfare of an entire world. My sights are set on the greater good these days, not on counting up favors and maneuvering for control."

Severus nodded. "I understand completely. Becoming Death... it has put certain things in perspective for me. Not just good and evil, but how my own reactions to petty things drove so much of my life and put so much evil on my soul. I know killing Albus wasn't responsible for the whole of evil counted against me. I had many other things to weigh me down. I suppose I am grateful for a second chance - or at least I am when I'm not feeling as though there were machinations in the works to which I am not privy."

"There are always machinations at work somewhere," Regulus said with a teasing smile. "Powers greater than us and all that. For all that we're Incarnations, we're still human, and we're subject to the vagaries of Fate and Free Will just like everyone else."

"Vagaries of Fate, indeed... the meddling old woman," Severus muttered. "If you happen to see the Incarnation of Free Will running around, send them my way. I have a desire to tell them exactly what I think of them!"

Regulus laughed outright at that. "There isn't an Incarnation of Free Will. There are some things that are all your own. Most things are, actually. Fate only handles the big things."

"Figures," Severus said. "Ah, well. I suppose all I can do at this point is try my best and hope that I manage not to screw up too badly. My probationary period is nearly over, you know. How do I find out if I'm staying or going? Do I simply get kicked out if I'm not good enough?"

"There will be coverage on your channel when the time comes," Regulus replied. "I'm certain you don't need to worry about being replaced. You've done a good job, and I'll put in a good word for you."

Severus was genuinely pleased at that, and he gave Regulus a smile. "Thank you, I would appreciate it. As much as I feel as though I might have been manipulated into this, I find I'm rather enjoying the job, for the most part. It's nice to have a sense of purpose beyond the destruction of Voldemort and protecting the Potter brat."

"It does offer a type of satisfaction I doubt we would have found in our mortal lives," Regulus agreed, and then he stretched and rose to his feet leisurely. "Speaking of jobs, I suppose I'd best be off to do mine."

Rising to his feet, Severus touched Regulus briefly on the shoulder. "I want you to know that I do appreciate you, Regulus," he said. "When we find the final fragments, I'll let you know, all right? It might be worth a celebration."

"I believe it will." Regulus smiled as he drew away. "Good-bye, Severus, and good luck." With that, he turned and headed to the door.

Severus watched him go, feeling a pang of regret that he couldn't give Regulus what he wanted. It would be so much easier if he could, because it would end his own doubts and give him someone who knew and understood him and _wanted_ him. But he had too much regard for Regulus to lie or pretend; if he couldn't feel what he should for Regulus for them to have a relationship, he wasn't going to use Regulus as he himself had been used.

Breaking out of his reverie, he moved to the door, needing something to do to take his mind of his inner turmoil. "Lupin! Have you found those last soul fragments yet?" he called out, suspecting Lupin wasn't too far away.

A minute or two later, Lupin appeared, Pom in hand as he approached. "Yes, I have," he said, his expression troubled. "There's a problem, however. If my findings are correct, the last fragment found its way back to Voldemort. He's in South America, just as War suspected, and it appears he's stirring up big trouble."

Severus went still at that, looking at Lupin and hoping that he was joking. From the expression on his face, however, it was obvious that he wasn't, and Severus felt his stomach sink in dismay. "This is not good," he said, rubbing his forehead as he tried to think over what this would mean for attempting to collect the last bits and sending Voldemort to Hell. "Perhaps I should call Regulus back."

Lupin studied the screen of his device, a frown furrowing his brow, and at last he lifted his head and said with obvious reluctance, "It might be a good idea if you did. From what the Muggle news reports say, there's a rebellion stirring. From what I can tell, Voldemort has possessed a leader, and if the dossier is correct, I suspect the host may be a Dark wizard himself. Even if he isn't, he's kept his people paralyzed with fear, but it seems they've finally reached a breaking point."

Of all the horrible things Severus had imagined the last soul fragments doing, this was worse by far. An actual war in the Muggle world, something that could threaten to expose the Wizarding World and end in its destruction. No matter what, they had to keep that from happening. This was far bigger than simply another rebellion in a minor country; this could change the world as they knew it.

"This is more than just War, then... this must be why all the current Incarnations are Wizards and Witches," Severus said slowly. He looked at Remus, his mouth set in a grim line. "Not just Regulus. All of them. Please send a message to each of the other four Incarnations and tell them that Death requires their presence in an hour. I think it will take the efforts of all five of us to bring him down."

"Yes, Severus, right away." Lupin nodded, his own expression somber, and he hurried away. Severus was able to relax, if only a little, in the knowledge that the rest of the Incarnations would be here soon, likely in less than an hour if Lupin had anything to say about it, and then they could plan how best to deal with this new - and hopefully final - threat.


	13. Chapter 13

Once the other Incarnations arrived, Remus asked Jeeves to bring refreshments to the parlor before taking up his station standing behind the sofa, on-hand without being intrusive, and he was prepared to take notes in case they were needed for later. It hadn't been too difficult to locate the other Incarnations and convince them to come on short notice, especially when he explained the nature of the problem, and now they were gathered in the parlor with Severus, each exhibiting different levels of concern.

McGonagall sat ramrod straight in her chair, prim as always, but there was apprehension in her face despite her no-nonsense demeanor. Regulus had sprawled in a chair rather than taking a place near Severus, which was surprising given what Remus had seen earlier, but Remus put all speculation out of his mind; there were more important matters to focus on at the moment, and it was none of his business anyway. Helga Hufflepuff had brought her own chair of what appeared to be living wood, and perhaps because of her age, she seemed more serene than anyone else. Even Luna Lovegood was wearing a look of concern, while Severus himself was downright grim.

"Thank you all for coming," Severus said, glancing at each of the other Incarnations in turn. "I called you here because Lupin has found the last of Voldemort's soul fragments, and I'm afraid that what he has discovered is most disturbing indeed." He looked at Remus, raising a brow. "Will you please explain what you have found?"

"Yes, Severus," Remus replied with a respectful nod. He pulled up the information on the Pom's screen and adjusted his glasses - a habitual nervous gesture he'd never been able to break - and addressed the body of Incarnations, a surprisingly formidable group when put together, especially when he considered their collective power. "War suggested investigating South America, and the lead panned out. I located the last fragment, but unfortunately, it found its way back to the remains of Voldemort's soul. But that isn't the worst of it." He drew in a deep breath and continued somberly, "It appears Voldemort has possessed the body of a dictator, a man who might be a Dark wizard." He paused, letting the implications sink in for a moment. "In addition, there is unrest stirring among his people. He has been controlling them through fear and possibly Dark magic, but there are signs of an opposition forming."

"That could prove a useful diversion," Regulus said, obviously alert and attentive despite his relaxed posture.

Severus gave Remus a brief nod of thanks, then turned his attention back to his colleagues. "I believe it is going to take more than what I can do alone," Severus said,steepling his hands before him. "In fact, I believe that the reason we - all of us who are Incarnations - are now of the Wizarding world is to stop Voldemort. I believe we each have something to contribute. Regulus, it's obvious what you can do, as far as assisting the rebellion and providing a distraction so that he won't be able to see the rest of us coming. Nature, you had the means before of separating the souls. In this case, though, do we really care to separate them? From the sound of it, if we send the dictator to Hell as well, we're probably doing the world a favor."

Helga frowned. "I don't know that killing the human is the best solution, but..." she sighed. "If it becomes necessary in order to rid the world of Voldemort, then yes. But I will see if I can come up with something to save the host."

"The human's fate is warped," McGonagall said. "Little wonder, if he's tangled up with Voldemort. I do not advocate killing him if it can be avoided, but even I cannot unravel his fate at this point. There are too many variables, especially now that we are involved. Nothing is certain for any of us from this point forward."

"Are you saying it's possible one of us could end up... replaced?" Regulus asked, seeming surprised.

"It is, yes," McGonagall replied grimly. "For my part, I will keep watch on the Tapestry and send word if any paths become clearer or safer."

"I'll do... what I do," Luna spoke up, smiling slightly as she looked at the others. "There are many paths, as Fate has said, and I can see them all. But I will pick the clear way as I see it."

Severus looked at her, scowling slightly, but he didn't reject her words or her offer. "That leaves me, and I will have to trap him in the soul bottle and send him to hell," he said, his voice firm. "We can do this. We _will_ do it. Failure isn't an option."

"Indeed it is not," McGonagall agreed. "We are the last line of defense. If we cannot deal with him, if I cannot cut his thread once and for all, then the fate of the world is not one I wish to contemplate."

"How soon do you want me to begin creating the diversion?" Regulus asked. "It may take a couple of days to reach the point of causing difficulty for our host, but I'll call in Conquest and Slaughter for help in speeding things along."

"I would say there is no time like the present," Luna replied, giggling. 

"Is that a hint?" Severus asked, and Luna spread her hands and gave a slight shrug, which from Severus' frown Remus could tell caused him no end of annoyance.

"I will need some time to see what I can come up with to help, too," Nature said, then rose to her feet. "Taking Chronos' words into account, I think I'll return to the Tree and begin working. Do contact me at once if anything changes?"

"Of course," Severus replied gravely. He rose as well and looked at the others with determination. "Any idea, no matter how insane it seems, make certain Remus knows of it. He has a knack for synthesizing things, and he'll be able to track everything."

Remus was surprised to hear himself addressed by name, although he didn't let it show in front of the others, wanting to maintain his professional decorum; instead he nodded and held up the Pom. "I'm auto-tracking Voldemort's soul," he said. "If he leaves his present location, this will alert me. It will also let me keep records of all information pertaining to the case."

"And it plays music!" Luna piped up.

"Yes, that too," he affirmed, smiling slightly. "At any rate, I can send the files to the rest of you so you'll be updated along with Death."

"Good." Regulus nodded his approval. "Send mine to warishell at purgatory dot org."

"Hmph! I suppose that means I'll have to use that infernal machine," McGonagall grumbled. "Very well, then. I must say, Severus, I'm beginning to envy you your assistant."

"You are welcome to envy from afar, but any attempt to lure him away from his current post will earn my severe displeasure," Severus replied, crossing his arms over his chest and peering down his nose at the rest of them. "Now, if we are finished here, I have clients to collect."

Luna rose to her feet, smiling serenely at Severus and waving at Remus. "I'll see you later, Hermes!" she said, then tilted her Hourglass and disappeared.

Nature, who had picked up her chair, turned to look at Remus with a raised brow, and then she looked at Minerva. "Well, well," she murmured. "I suppose we'll see what we will see."

McGonagall turned a searching look on him as well before glancing at Nature. "Indeed we shall," she said archly.

Remus regarded them with confusion, but neither of them seemed inclined to say anything more. "It must be because she knows I sign correspondence that way when I answer the letters from Death," he explained.

"Mm-hm." McGonagall's expression was knowing, but she didn't elaborate. "I'll leave you to it, then, Severus. I'll send word if I learn anything. Good-bye," she said as she rose to her feet. "I do hope we can all meet again under less dire circumstances."

"As do I," Nature replied, then nodded to them all and took her leave. 

Severus nodded to Nature, then to Minerva, before turning his attention to Regulus. "Be careful," he warned Regulus quietly. "Don't try to do this all on your own. If you need any assistance at all, don't hesitate to let me know, all right?"

"I won't be alone," Regulus replied with an easy smile. "I'll have at least two of the other Incarnations with me, three if Famine thinks he can help. He's quite handy when it comes to arranging food shortages even in cities, which might be useful. If I need anything beyond that, I'll let you know."

"Good." Severus clapped him on the arm companionably, then turned to Remus once Regulus was gone. "If you'll pull up the information for my next collection, I'll summon Mortis." He paused, growing more serious. "Given that there is some doubt that all of us might make it out of this, if you'd like to see your son again, I suggest you schedule a visit soon. Not that anything could happen to you, of course, but..." His voice trailed off, and he shrugged, but he didn't really have to say it. If Severus didn't make it through things alive, there was no guarantee that Remus would be able to see Teddy again.

"I will," Remus replied somberly. As much as he knew he was needed to help shuttle information between the Incarnations, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to see his son, especially if it might be his last visit. "Thank you."

Severus inclined his head in acknowledgment. "Sooner rather than later would be best. And let me know if there's anything you'd like me to retrieve for him. I suspect we can spare time for a short trip to the toy shop, if we must."

Remus thought Severus might be teasing, but he wasn't certain, and he wasn't quite certain how to respond if Severus was, so he played it safe. "I'll think about it, perhaps consult some catalogues, and let you know. To be honest, I'm not certain how to shop for babies. I didn't get much practice when I was alive."

"I doubt he will be highly critical of your choices, whatever they may be," Severus replied, his lips twitching, indicated that he was definitely teasing. Then he grew more serious. "I will leave a request for my successor to allow you to continue visits, just in case anything unfortunate happens to me. He or she would not be obligated to honor it, of course, but I'll do my best."

Remus smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Severus. I appreciate the effort. But you've got plenty of allies and resources on your side. I'm sure you'll come out of this all right."

Severus didn't smile in return. "I thought I'd come out of the previous conflict all right, too, and if my soul hadn't been in balance, we'd not be having this conversation." He shrugged. "Nothing is guaranteed, and I don't wish to take chances. If sacrificing myself is what it takes to capture Voldemort, then that is what I will do."

"Sacrificing ourselves once is enough for any of us, I should think," Remus said, tucking his hands in his pockets. "You were on your own the first time. You aren't this time. That will make a difference in the outcome."

"I would like to think so," Severus replied, then raised a brow. "Now, about my next client? The sooner we can get that finished, the sooner you can see your son."

"Of course." Remus nodded and pulled out the Pom, pulling up the necessary info. "Got it. Car, carpet, or thestral for Mortis?"

"Whatever is quickest for this collection," Severus replied, then gave a snort of amusement. "I feel like the bloody postal service. Neither wind nor rain nor dark of night?"

"Something like that." Remus smiled and chose the car option before heading for the door. The future might be uncertain, but here and now, he could keep Death on schedule, and that would have to do.


	14. Chapter 14

The jungle around them was thick and swarming with insects, and Severus was grateful for the protection of his magical robes; if it weren't for their ability to adjust his body temperature, he thought he'd probably be melted into a puddle on the dank ground or eaten alive by the swarms of nasty, biting flies. Fortunately the flies, like all mortal creatures, seemed to fear the touch of Death, and any of the larger predators haunting the thick underbrush had apparently also taken themselves elsewhere. Standing in the cover of a stand of dense ferns - more from habit of years as a spy than any real fear of being seen - Severus stared into the clearing before him, eyes narrowed with anger as he watched the drama playing out within.

Two men occupied the center of the empty area, while five more stood to one side, watching avidly as the taller of the pair thrashed the smaller with a wicked, nine-tailed whip. The bare back of the man being beaten was so drenched in blood it was impossible to see the welts from the wounds, and his cries of agony did nothing to move his tormentors, who laughed and called out things in Spanish. Severus had been frustrated at not being able to understand what they were saying, until Lupin had asked if he had an earring worn by his predecessor. Severus remembered that he did, and when he'd pulled it out of a pocket and affixed it to his ear by its magnetic clasp, he found he could understand everything the men said.

"Tell us where your comrades are hiding!" demanded the central man of the group of five, and Severus had no doubt that this was the tyrant they sought, the one who was possessed of the last two fragments of Voldemort's soul. It was as though he could see the evil in the man's soul in the burning of his eyes, the way he licked his lips as he watched the torture. It reminded Severus far too much of the man whom he had once called "Lord", and it made him more determined than ever to put an end to this once and for all.

It was tempting to stride into the clearing, reach for the bastard's soul, and yank it out through his chest, but Minerva, in her role as Fate, had cautioned him against such a blatant action. "You need to find out what protections he has first," she admonished, waggling her finger at him as though he were a First Year. "You are powerful, and you have seen from what Voldemort did that the hand of Death _can_ be stayed. If you strike too quickly and are unsuccessful, you will lose the element of surprise. As far as we know, he knows nothing of the Incarnations, but if you strike and fail, he'll know that someone is out for him, and he'll be all the more difficult to defeat."

As little as he liked to admit it, McGonagall was correct, and so that was how Severus came to be watching his target. The opposition, backed by War himself, had been successful in a coup to take over the capital, driving the Dark Wizard into the jungle. It had been a horrific, bloody conflict which had cost a great many souls on both sides, several of which Severus had been required to collect, but in the end, the rebels had prevailed, if only by the skin of their teeth. It was obvious, however, that the dictator considered this a temporary setback, and Severus had heard through their radio broadcasts that an army was massing just to the east to help take back the capital and crush the rebellion once and for all.

Despite the heavy cost, the result was that the dictator was away from his fixed base, hiding in makeshift quarters and trying to avoid capture while arranging his retaliation. Hopefully it meant that he'd had to leave many of his protections behind, although Severus was well aware of the wand the man possessed, cleverly disguised as a riding crop which he clenched beneath one arm at all times. The dictator was a small, physically unimposing man, but the determination and energy he radiated were a palpable force, no doubt explaining his ability to gather and keep supporters to do his bidding. That, and a judicious application of Dark Magic and Unbreakable Vows. Some quick scanning with his own wand had shown Severus the telltale magical signatures on the four men who were by the dictator's side constantly, and it didn't take much imagination to know that not only were they all wizards, they'd no doubt Vowed to protect the dictator even at the cost of their own lives. Yet things were as favorable as they would probably ever be, and Severus knew that the time for action was quickly approaching; succeed or fail, this would be his best shot at defeating Voldemort once and for all.

"Hopefully the bastard hasn't made any Horcruxes of his own, or things could get very complicated," Severus muttered to Lupin, who stood beside him. "How long did Lovegood say we had until he starts the attack on the capital again - tomorrow morning? And can we trust her accuracy on that?"

"Tomorrow morning, assuming events play out along a certain path," Lupin replied quietly. "She can see all possible time-lines, so narrowing it down is rather difficult, I would think. Still, it's the best information we have to go on. I suggest working under the assumption that she's right."

Severus gave a grunt of acknowledgment. He didn't like relying on Lovegood, of all the people in the universe, but there didn't seem to be much help for it. McGonagall could pull strings like a puppet master, but even she couldn't predict with any certainty the way the multitude of events would unfold. 

"I wish Nature could have come up with something better for the extraction," he muttered, tapping his fingers on his thigh in a gesture he insisted to himself was impatient and not nervous. The best Hufflepuff could manage were some leaves from the Tree, which she told Severus would help him separate the living soul from the pieces of Voldemort's dead one, once he managed to pull the whole mess out where he could see it. Unfortunately, however, he couldn't use the leaves with his gloves on, since the touch of Death would whither them; he'd have to remove one glove and use his bare hand to press the leaves into place, then try to untangle the whole ugly mess. Being without a glove, however, was a chink in his invulnerability, and he didn't like it at all. 

Turning to look at Lupin, he frowned. "If anything were to happen to me, get Regulus to kill the bastard before he can assume the Office, do you understand?" he asked, wishing that Regulus weren't so tied up with helping the rebels hold their position without falling apart. "I suspect he has accrued enough good that he can do a bit of murder without harming his standing too much. The important thing is that this bastard can't become Death, no matter what." He smiled grimly. "I don't know what that will do to McGonagall's threads, but as I won't be around to care, that will be her problem."

"Yes, Severus," Lupin replied somberly, his expression pensive. "I'll make certain he doesn't take your place, no matter what it takes."

Severus felt the urge to reach out and touch Lupin, even though Lupin was no more than a ghost while they were here and outside of Mortis. He lifted his hand to the vicinity of Lupin's shoulder, and to his surprise, he felt solidity beneath his fingers as he moved them to where Lupin's flesh should be. Apparently his office allowed him to touch even a disembodied soul, and he offered a reassuring pressure that he hoped Lupin could feel before dropping his hand again. "Thank you."

The torture ended, as the victim sudden groaned and collapsed. Severus, to his surprise, saw the soul leave the body, a grey form that was more light than dark as it drifted upward toward heaven. Realizing his efforts had killed the victim, the man wielding the whip turned fearful eyes toward the dictator. He was right to be afraid, as it turned out, for the riding crop was suddenly pointed in his direction, and a bolt of red light struck the man, dropping him to the ground where he writhed in agony. Severus was quite familiar with this particular Unforgivable, having suffered theCruciatus several times at the hands of Voldemort himself. In this case, however, he had little pity for the man with the whip, since he'd obviously been enjoying inflicting pain on his victim.

Then it was over, and the dictator turned and entered a tent, giving an order for the remaining four to stand guard outside. They took up positions, one at each corner of the tent, and Severus knew this was his chance.

"He's alone," he said, drawing in a deep breath and steeling himself for what was to come. "I'd better act now, while I can."

He thought he saw a flash of frustration in Lupin's eyes, but it passed quickly - if it had been there at all - and Lupin mustered a smile.

"No time like the present, as Luna said," Lupin replied. "Good luck and... be careful. I'd rather not be obliged to train a new Death."

"Think of it as job security," Severus replied. He made sure his mask and gloves were in place, then straightened and stepped away from the vegetation, striding toward the tent with a purposeful gait.

It was an odd fact about all Incarnations that mortals seemed unable to see them unless they consciously willed it. Oh, he'd seen people shiver as he walked by, but mostly they looked through him rather than at him. So it was with the guards, who seemed alert but apparently couldn't detect Severus at all. The guns they held wouldn't be able to hurt him, but he didn't want them firing and alerting the bastard they were protecting to his presence.

The tent flap stood open, and Severus was able to slip inside, immediately seeking out the dictator, who was bent over a map spread out on a large table, frowning as his finger traced lines running around what appeared to be the capitol city. The man's real name was Juan Carlos Sanchez DeHoya, but for good reason, he had been given the nickname El Diablo , which people in his country whispered in much the same way those in Severus' had once only murmured the name of Voldemort, if they dared say it at all. He didn't frighten Severus, of course, but neither did Severus take what he was about to do lightly. Success was not a foregone conclusion, and he had to move carefully.

Stepping behind El Diablo, Severus lifted his hands, then plunged them into the dictator's chest and wrapped them firmly around his soul.

A cry of surprise and pain escaped the man, loud enough to draw the attention of the guards outside, and Severus cursed as they moved into the tent. He stepped backward, pulling El Diablo with him, away from the table and the riding crop.

"Who is it? Who?" El Diablo demanded, trying to look behind him at the author of his misery. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of Severus' mask, and he snarled. "ElMuerte! You will not take me! I am more powerful than even you!"

"I doubt that," Severus replied grimly.

"Sir, what is happening?" one of the guards asked, his weapon raised, but he appeared confused as he beheld the sight of his leader near the back of the tent, on his feet but writhing in pain.

"I am being attacked, can't you see?" El Diablo gasped, reaching around to grab Severus. He was too short to do anything more than grope uselessly, however, and Severus held on with determination, squeezing El Diablo's soul and trying to pull it forth from his body. It was more difficult than any Severus had dealt with, and he didn't dare let go with either hand to try to get Nature's leaves at this point, lest the man break free. He hadn't counted on it being this difficult, and he cursed with frustration.

"Who? Who?" the guards asked, even as they tried to move closer.

All of a sudden, the sound of "Ride of the Valkyries" filled the small tent, blasting at top volume, and the guards' progress was hindered by chairs skittering into their path; those who didn't trip found themselves engulfed in a hurricane of paperwork as El Diablo's desk was swept clean and every scrap of paper whirled around and around the befuddled guards.

Severus almost chuckled aloud; he could see Lupin clearly as Lupin threw papers into the air and shoved the chairs violently around, but it was obvious that the guards couldn't. One of them tripped and went down, hitting his head on the corner of the table, while the others looked fearful, one even crossing himself in superstitious dread. But the Unbreakable Vow each of them had sworn wouldn't allow them to run, and the remaining three kept coming, guns drawn as they tried to get a shot at the attacker they couldn't see.

El Diablo screamed as Severus yanked with all his strength on his soul, and at last, Severus managed to pull it out of the man's body. It was as black as coal in his hands, and he instinctively wished to let go, feeling tainted by the touch of so much evil. But he held on, sweating beneath his mask with effort.

He needed to get the leaves; there was no way he could separate the bits of Voldemort from El Diablo without being certain he'd gotten it all. There was simply too much evil, and although he could feel the dead soul clinging to the live one, they were so intertwined as to be indistinguishable. He grasped the soul by one hand with all his strength, then raised the other hand to his mouth, intending to bite down on the fingers of the glove and pull it off. But the mask made that all but impossible, and Severus snarled, furious with himself for not having thought of that beforehand. It just went to show him that he still didn't know everything about the tools of his office, and unless he did something quickly, he might never be able to find out.

There was only one thing to do, and so Severus did it, not giving himself time to think. He pulled away the mask and hood, baring his real face, and then he was able to pull off his glove with his human lips and teeth. Reaching into his pocket with his hand, he pulled out Nature's leaves and clapped them over the soul.

It was then that the guards, now seeing a human face to the attacker, all lifted their guns and fired.

Eyes wide, Severus watched the muzzle flashes, and in his last agonized seconds, he turned his glance to Lupin, hoping that the man would remember his promise.


	15. Chapter 15

The shots were audible even over the music blaring from the Pom, and Remus whirled to discover Severus had taken his mask off, and the guards had spotted him. Even if Remus wasn't already growing depleted to the point of exhaustion from trying to frighten and confuse the guards by shoving and throwing everything he possibly could, there was nothing he could do to stop the bullets, and he was filled with sick horror at being so utterly helpless.

A bullet appeared headed directly for Severus forehead, a certain kill shot. A moment before impact, however, everything froze, and Luna Lovegood appeared next to Severus, holding her Hourglass in one hand and, incongruously, an ice cream cone in the other.

"Hello, Hermes!" she greeted Remus with a broad smile. Everyone and everything else in the tent was frozen except the two of them; the bullets and papers hung in the air as if on strings, and Severus stared at Remus endlessly, the form of El Diablo before him, mouth gaped open in a silent scream. The tent was silent as well, the music and the gunshots no longer audible. Luna seemed indifferent to having stopped time, stepping forward and holding out her ice cream cone to him. "Do you know in this country they have _fried_ ice cream? Fried! How do they do that, I wonder? It tastes fantastic, but who in the world would have thought you could fry something so cold?"

"Er..." Remus glanced around, trying to make sense of the situation. "I'm afraid I don't know. Perhaps I could look it up for you later," he said, vaguely aware that he must be in shock to have fallen into her nonsensical conversation so easily.

"I'd appreciate that, only you'd have to look it up _earlier_ , or else I'd already know," she answered serenely, before glancing about the tent. "What a mess! It looks like someone set a herd of angry Snorkacks loose, doesn't it? I hate war! Oh, I don't mean _War_ , because Regulus is handsome and charming and tells the most witty jokes. I like _him_ , but I don't care for his business. It causes too much pain and loss."

"I quite agree," Remus said, glancing over at Severus. "Can you do something about this? Is that why you're here?"

"No, I'm here to offer you a choice," Luna replied, growing more serious. She looked older and far more mature as she lost her beaming smile, and she drew herself up proudly, looking like an Incarnation rather than like the strange girl who had tagged along with Harry and Neville. 

She gestured toward Severus with her Hourglass. "There are two paths that the future can take from this point. Both of them look equal from the point of view of the world and the Incarnations, but they are vastly different when it comes to you and to Thanatos. Since free will is the determining factor - in this case, specifically _your_ free will - you must make the choice."

" _Me_?" Remus stared at her, confused, and he shook his head. "What choice can I make? I'm dead. I can't turn back time or stop those bullets." He looked down at himself and gestured to his dull glow. "I'll be lucky if I can make it back to Mortis after expending as much energy as I have. What could I possibly do to make a difference?"

"You can make the choice to save Thanatos or to let him die," she replied. "If you choose to let time go on as it is progressing at this moment, then Severus Snape will die. The office of Death becomes vacant because Regulus will destroy all the men in this tent. In your past - which is my future - I retrieve your body right after your soul is removed and put it in stasis. The other Incarnations ask _you_ to become the new Death. Nature restores your soul to your body, and Fate switches Severus' thread with yours, so that you will go on and have the rest of the life that he might have led. You get to have your son, too. I remember him visiting Purgatory and riding Mortis. Such a happy boy!"

"I could be... alive again?" he asked, scarcely able to believe what she said could be true. As scattered as Luna could be, she was different at this moment, far more serious and grounded, and he _wanted_ to believe her, since this sounded like the second chance he had so desperately desired.

"Yes," Luna said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Nothing in the Universe can stand against the combined power of the Incarnations, remember? With me changing Time, and Minerva changing Fate, and Nature bringing Life, and War assuring that none of _these_ become Death... then you could live again and take the office for yourself."

Remus stared at Severus for a long moment, and then he turned away and pushed his fingers through his hair, at war within himself over what to do. What he _wanted_ to do was to choose to let time proceed as normal and take up the office of Death himself. He would have a physical body, he would be alive, he would be able to help raise his son; he'd be able to do all the things he'd wanted to do before he died, and he knew he could do the job. He was organized and conscientious, and he was already familiar with what the job entailed. Really, the only thing he hadn't done was collect a soul for himself, but he'd seen Severus do it often enough to have learned the trick of it. He could do it, and he would be good at it.

But he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. To let Severus die when there was another option wasn't murder, but it wasn't right, either. Remus might be able to convince himself that Severus had brought it on himself by taking off the mask, but that was flimsy justification, and he knew it. To refuse the chance to save Severus was tantamount to betraying Severus. It would be the same kind of passive refusal to make the difficult decisions and do the right thing that had plagued him all his life, and Severus had been given as bad a hand in life as Remus had. He didn't deserve to have his chance for freedom and redemption taken away, and it _was_ Severus' chance, not Remus'. As little as Remus liked it, his life was over and his chances were gone for good. Severus' life was not over, and he didn't deserve to be the victim of more treachery, especially not from someone he seemed to trust.

"I'm sorry, Teddy," Remus murmured. If ghosts could weep, he would have wept over this agonizing decision, but for once, he was going to do the right thing, no matter what it cost him, and he lifted his head to gaze steadily at Luna. "It's Severus' Office, not mine," he said firmly, at peace with his choice; the pain and regret he felt over losing a second chance was eased by the knowledge that he was shedding his passivity and doing what he knew was right at last. "Tell me what I must do to save him."

Luna beamed at him, obviously pleased with his choice for some reason, and he thought he saw a hint of mischief in her eyes as well. "You didn't ask about what happens if you save him, but you've made your choice, so that can simply be a surprise," she replied. "Here, put your hand on the Hourglass, and I'll take you back to just before Severus entered the tent. All you have to do is remind him to pull out the stem of the Death Watch and stop time before taking El Dodohead's soul. Things will happen differently than they did this time, I promise you."

Remus was startled anew by her pronouncement; he'd assumed that the only thing that would happen to him if he saved Severus was that he would continue being Severus' assistant, and he'd had no expectations of anything changing. There was no time to wonder about it now, however, and so he pushed his curiosity aside and grasped the Hourglass as instructed.

Around them things occurred in reverse, moving so quickly that suddenly he and Luna were standing in the jungle, and Remus didn't remember moving. Severus, however, was standing beside them, peering into the clearing, just as he had been minutes before.

"All right, then, it's up to you now, Hermes," Luna said. "I'll just be off. Oh, and next time you see me, tell me I need to try the ice cream here! Would you like a bite of mine?"

"I can't eat," he replied, feeling dazed. "But thank you anyway. I'll be sure to let you know about the ice cream."

"That's right! I forgot you lost that," Luna said. Then she smiled at him and lifted the Hourglass, taking a lick of her ice cream as she disappeared from sight.

Beside him, Severus drew in a deep breath. "He's alone. I'd better act now, while I can."

"Wait!" Remus exclaimed, floating as quickly as he could in front of Severus and holding up both hands. "Don't forget to pull the stem of your watch and stop time before you take his soul. You _must_ remember to do that, all right?"

"Stop time?" Severus looked surprised, then frowned thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. "That's brilliant, Lupin. I don't know why I didn't think of it. It will make things much easier." He gave a snort of amusement. "You know, you could do this job just as well as I can. Maybe even better. Thank you... and wish me luck."

"Good luck," Remus replied, relieved that Severus had listened to him and intended to heed his - or rather, Luna's - advice. "And be careful. I'd rather not see you replaced," he added, his words heartfelt after the near-miss he had witnessed in ElDiablo's tent.

"Think of it as job security," Severus replied, giving a toothy smile, then turned and headed out into the clearing. 

True to Luna's words, the capture did go differently. Severus entered the tent, then beckoned to Remus, touching him on the arm as he pulled out the stem of the Death Watch. Time stopped, and Severus was able to wrest the soul of El Diablo from his body, applying Nature's leaves to separate Voldemort into the soul bottle while Remus surriptitiously activated the Pom's video capture feature and filmed the event. "It's too bad the bastard doesn't get to suffer some," Severus muttered, regarding the soul of the dictator with disgust before letting it snap back into his body. Then he looked at Remus. "Let's step outside and send our own particular bastard to Hell, shall we?"

Smiling with relief that things had indeed gone much differently, just as Luna had said they would, Remus nodded and followed Severus out of the tent. "I've captured the moment for posterity," he offered, holding up the Pom. "I can send the video to the other Incarnations, and you can watch it as often as you like."

"That sounds perfect," Severus replied. He stopped in the clearing and held up the soul bottle. "This is it, Tom Riddle - and never forget that in this case, payback isn't a bitch. It's a grumpy old bastard." He turned the bottle over, and the mass of Voldemort's soul fell from it toward the ground as though it weighed a thousand pounds. It plunged into the ground, descending toward Hell faster than any other soul they'd ever collected. Severus stared at the spot, an expression of satisfaction on his face. "We did it. We actually did it."

Remus followed its progress until it was completely out of sight, and then he lifted the camera back up to capture Severus' moment of triumph before turning it off. "It's over at last," he said. "Congratulations, Severus. You've saved the world from Voldemort's evil once and for all."

Severus shook his head. "Not me. Or not just me. You, too, and the others - Regulus and Minerva and Helga and even Lovegood. I'd never have found all the pieces without you, and we never could have collected them all without the help of the others." He fell silent for a moment. "For the first time, I feel as though I really am a member of a team. I never did in the Order, you know. It was me, and all the rest of you. We were on the same side, but we were not on the same team. It's different now. I like this way better."

"I'm sure it does make a difference," Remus agreed. He had felt like an outsider as well, likely not as much as Severus had, but being a werewolf had set him apart nonetheless. It had been better within the Order, but not by that much. He still didn't feel like part of a team, although he wasn't going to say as much to Severus; even if Severus forgot or ignored the fact that Remus was still different from the rest of them - still an outsider - Remus had been keenly aware of his own outsider status for too long to forget he'd traded one difference for another. "I'm glad you've found someplace to belong," he added. "You've earned it."

"Thank you," Severus replied. He tucked the soul bottle back in his robe and called out for Mortis. "Let's go home. We've earned a break, I think."

"You take a break. I'll send this video clip to the other Incarnations and check on your ratings," Remus said. "With your review coming up so soon, I want to make sure I've done everything I can to help keep your ratings up."

Severus lifted a brow, but Mortis' arrival kept him from saying anything. In short order, they had arrived back in Purgatory, and Jeeves opened the door of the Death Mansion, looking rather aggrieved.

"The other Incarnations are here to see you," he said. But he wasn't looking at Severus; he was looking right at Remus.

"Here to see who?" Remus asked, bewildered by Jeeves' behavior. Although Jeeves seemed to imply they were waiting for Remus, he couldn't think of why that might be the case.

"You, Mr. Lupin," Jeeves replied. "They arrived a few minutes ago."

Severus looked surprised, but he shrugged. "No doubt it's about that video you sent. I think."

"Oh, right." Remus nodded, satisfied by that explanation. "That must be it. Perhaps they'd like to have a group viewing," he suggested as he turned to follow Jeeves into the parlor.

Severus trailed along as well, stepping into the parlor and raising a brow at his colleagues. He appeared as though he were about to ask a question, but Luna stood up and ran to Remus, flinging her arms around him and hugging him. "Oh, Hermes, this is so wonderful, isn't it? You get to be an Incarnation and everything!"

Helga Hufflepuff coughed to cover a laugh, but she, too, rose, and came toward Remus. "What our backwards living colleague is trying to say, Remus, is that we've taken a vote, and, if you are willing, we would like to offer you the position of Hermes on Death's staff." She looked at Severus, then, raising a brow. "Assuming, of course, that Death doesn't mind."

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. "You all voted without me?" he asked, his voice full of disapproval. "Is that fair?"

Remus stared down at Luna, who was still clinging to him, and rested his hands lightly on her shoulders while he tried to make sense of what they were saying. "I don't understand," he said, frowning in puzzlement. "What are you talking about?"

"We are talking about giving you a promotion," McGonagall said tartly. "The position of Hermes has been vacant for quite some time. When the previous holder decided to retire and move on, Death - Severus' predecessor - never got around to filling the position, and since Hermes is a lesser Incarnation who serves in a supplementary role, not a vital one, there was no pressing need to find a replacement. But Luna told us about your selfless decision today, and we decided you had earned this."

"What decision?" Severus asked, his frown deepening. 

"Oh... er." Remus rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. He hadn't intended to tell Severus, since there was no real need for him to know, and Remus hadn't wanted to sound like he was bragging about finally having the guts to make the right decision. He could imagine Severus saying 'It's about damned time', and he had to agree. "Well, you were about to be killed by ElDiablo's guards, and I agreed to go back in time to warn you to stop time before tinkering with his soul, that's all."

"You left out the part where Chronos said you had the choice of saving Severus or letting him die and taking his place, complete with getting your old body back," Regulus said dryly. "That's the important bit, I believe."

There was no mistaking the shock on Severus' face, and he looked at Remus as though he'd been gobsmacked. "You did?" he asked. "All that about the watch, then... You could have let me die and become Death yourself, but you didn't?" He stopped and swallowed hard, and his voice grew low and husky. "Why?"

"Because it wasn't the right thing to do," Remus said simply, meeting Severus' gaze. "Because it would have been a betrayal of your trust, and I would have had to live with even more guilt and regret than I already do. I was tempted," he admitted, "but I realized I had the chance to do the right thing and make a difference in a _good_ way, in a way that would let me be proud of myself for once. I did it because I didn't want to take away your second chance. I did it because it was what I wanted to do."

Severus was silent for a moment, although it was easy to see the thoughts whirling behind his eyes. Finally he nodded. "Thank you," he said, then glanced over at Nature. "I would have voted in his favor regardless, which I'm sure you took into account." He looked back at Remus. "I would be very happy for you to accept the position, if you wish it. But it is your choice."

"Of course it is!" Luna piped up, stepping back from Remus and rubbing her hands together, for all the world like a child on Christmas morning. "Which is why I must have saved his body, putting it in stasis. All we need is for Death to release you and Nature to put you back in it, and Fate to twiddle your thread or whatever she does, and we're set!"

Helga nodded. "It's basically that simple, since we have your body - which we didn't know until Chronos told us when she explained what you'd done," she said. "Assuming you want to be alive again. Some don't, you know."

Staggered by the revelation, Remus couldn't speak at first, and when he finally could, his voice was little more than a husky whisper. "I can be alive again? Really?"

"Yes, really." McGonagall regarded him over the top of her spectacles with fond amusement. "Nature has power over life, even to the point of rejoining a soul and its body. Is that what you want?"

Remus nodded vigorously, no longer trusting his voice. If the option truly was available to him, he wanted it - wanted that second chance more than anything else.

"I release him," Severus said quietly. 

"Yay!" Luna clapped her hands. "I really enjoyed the second birthday party, you know."

Helga Hufflepuff chuckled. "Why don't you bring us his body, dear, and we'll take care of this and let the poor boy have a chance to recover."

"All right!" Luna drew the Hourglass from her robe, then tilted it and disappeared. She was back before anyone could blink. "Did you miss me?"

"Only because my aim wasn't good enough," Severus muttered. "Where is his body?"

"On the sofa, Thanatos," Luna replied serenely, pointing toward it. 

Turning toward the sofa, Remus found himself looking down at... _himself_. As a wizard and a werewolf, he had seen some odd things in his life, but nothing could top seeing his own dead body. Fortunately, it had been kept in stasis, so he wouldn't start off his new position looking like a zombie, but he could tell it was indeed an empty shell, unnaturally pallid and lacking the subtle animation provided by the breath of life. He swallowed hard and wrenched his gaze away, focusing on the other Incarnations instead.

"What now?" he asked.

Nature stepped forward. "Now Minerva must repair the thread she cut, and I will put you back in your body," she said, smiling benignly at him. 

"I'm ahead of you, my dear," Minerva McGonagall said, holding up a bobbin on which a long piece of thread was wound. "Here we have it, so you're set."

"Excellent!" Nature chuckled, then reached out toward Remus. "Just close your eyes, dear. It will be less disconcerting that way."

Remus closed his eyes and braced himself; he had no idea what to expect, but he was willing to endure anything for this opportunity. "I'm ready," he murmured.

He felt her hands on his shoulders, then felt himself lifted and turned. Then he was sinking downward, and settling on the sofa, for all the world as though he'd just laid down.

"Open your eyes," Nature said from above him. "It's done."

Opening his eyes, he stared up at the ceiling, momentarily disoriented and feeling weighted down, as if his limbs were too heavy to move. Being back in his body was rather like being wrapped up in several layers of thick winter clothes, and he realized how much different it was being free of the constraints of the flesh. He had no desire to give up his constraints, however; being back in his body was starting to feel like being home as well, especially once he began to move, flexing his fingers experimentally to see if everything still worked like it should. His limbs were a bit sluggish at first, but they grew invigorated soon enough, and finally, he felt like he could sit up without toppling over.

Once he was upright, he lifted both hands to touch his face, shocked to feel skin that was growing warm again - shocked to _feel_ again. Each sensation was so sharp and clear, not the distant, muffled sensation that passed for feeling in his soul form. He pressed his hand against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, and then it hit him - _really_ hit him - that he was alive again, and the rush of gratitude, relief, and shock that followed was dizzying.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice still raspy. "This is..." He shook his head, unable to wrap words around how he felt, and his throat tightened with emotion. "This means everything to me."

"Congratulations," Regulus said, casting a speculative look at Severus. "Welcome to the club."

"Goodbye, Hermes," Luna said, looking unaccountably sad. Of course to her, from now on, he'd be a ghost, rather than an Incarnation.

"Congratulations," Severus echoed Regulus' sentiment, seeming unaware of his friend's look. 

"Well, we should be on our way," Nature said, patting Remus on the shoulder. "Come on over to the Tree, Minerva. I have a new tea I think you'll enjoy."

"All right," Minerva replied, stopping to offer Remus a smile and a brief touch as well. Luna sniffled and waved, and then the women were gone, leaving only Severus, Remus, and Regulus in the parlor.

"I'm sure the two of you have a lot to discuss, so I'll let you get on with it," Regulus said, rising to his feet. "I'd like to watch that video a few dozen more times anyway," he added as he headed for the door.

"I'll see you later - and thanks for your help," Severus said to Regulus by way of farewell. Then he turned to Remus, seeming at a loss for words for a moment, before giving a hesitant smile. "I'm glad for you. And... grateful for you making the choice you did. I know that must have been difficult, and I appreciate it."

"In the end, I couldn't do anything else," Remus replied, smiling. "Not and still live with myself afterward. I might have become Death, but I would have done so at the cost of betraying you, and I couldn't do that."

"Thank you," Severus repeated, his voice deep and husky. He lowered his gaze. "I think that is the first time that someone could have betrayed me and didn't. I just... can't believe it. Especially because..." He looked back up again, seeming troubled. "Your son. You didn't know you'd get your body back, and I know how much you want to be with Teddy. I... I wouldn't have blamed you if you had chosen to take the office. Teddy deserves to have his father, and I can't see my life as being worth more than that."

"How could I present myself as a good role model to my son if I was willing to betray you to get what I wanted?" Remus shook his head in vehement denial. "That isn't a lesson I wanted to teach him, and I would rather be dead and keep visiting him as a ghost with my integrity intact than sacrifice it for hugs from my son, no matter how badly I wanted them." He gave a lopsided smile. "Besides, you underestimate the value of your own life. You saved the world. That seems worthwhile to me."

Severus flushed and shrugged. "It was a group effort," he insisted, but he didn't press the issue about Remus' sacrifice. "Er... I assume you want to go see Teddy now. Take as long as you like. I can manage for a whle on my own. You've certainly earned a break."

Abruptly, Remus realized he _could_ travel to and from Purgatory on his own now, no longer dependent on Severus if he wanted to go somewhere outside Purgatory, and he would be solid when he got there. He would need to eat and sleep and all that as well, no longer able to keep working while Severus slept, but that was a small price to pay.

"Yes, I'd like that," he said. Habitually, he reached into his pocket for the Pom, and it was there, somehow having made the transition along with his soul form; he checked the schedule and nodded with satisfaction. "You've got a scheduled break too, but I'll leave a print-out of the schedule if you want it." Just then, the screen flashed, and a new icon he hadn't seen before appeared: a symbol that looked like a pair of winged shoes. Remus wasn't as well-versed in Greek mythology as he probably ought to be, but he knew enough to know that Hermes wore winged shoes, and he balked at the thought of wearing them himself. "Absolutely not," he told the Pom, which beeped reproachfully at him. The symbol changed to that of a winged horse, and he nodded and tapped it before glancing up at Severus. "Apparently I have my own ride now."

"That's... good," Severus said, managing a smile. "You don't have to print out the schedule. I'll remember to consult the Death Watch." He drew in a breath. "Enjoy your break. I suppose I'll see you when you get back."

Remus didn't consider himself adept at reading Severus, but he got the feeling something was off, and he wondered if he had done or said something wrong. Again. "Are you all right?" he asked. "If I've said something to upset you, I'm sorry. I assure you, it wasn't intentional."

Severus looked surprised. "No, no, you haven't done anything," he denied, shaking his head. "This is just... a big change and a sudden one, at that. But I'll be fine. I just need time to adjust."

"It _is_ a big change," Remus said wryly. "I suspect we'll both have adjustments to make, but we'll manage. My job won't change, as far as I know. I'll need breaks now too, but other than that, I plan to keep doing everything I've been doing all along."

"All right." Severus nodded briefly, although it seemed that he appeared relieved. "Enjoy your time with your son."

"I will. Thank you," Remus replied, waving briefly before hurrying away to find his transportation.

He would have to research his new position to learn if he had any official duties above and beyond what he did for Severus, catch up on answering Death's mail, and email Luna a reminder to try the fried ice cream, but all of that could wait until later. Right now, he was alive and free and on his way to Earth to pay a visit to Teddy, giddy with the knowledge that he had a second chance, one he had no intention of squandering. Things would be different this time; he would no longer be passive, no longer be afraid, no longer merely exist. He intended to _live_ , and he would start by holding his son at last.

-the end-


End file.
